Lurona city [southern shores of Fuminao Legacy Kingdom], local time [1794.01.12]

No, that’s also impossible, he thought, sighing.

He lowered his torso, allowing the hot water to cover his head entirely.

He was in the public baths – the hot spring kind. The vast pool was almost empty for some reason. He suspected that the preparations for the banquet were partly responsible.

It was, of course, an indoor bath. Nonetheless, the size didn’t disappoint. The hard, porous granite blocks made for a perfect floor, while the smooth surfaces of sculpted marble decorated the walls of the whole room, changing the chamber into a work of art.

It was a perfect environment to calm his nerves. The lack of people enhanced that effect, allowing him to think about the situation in relative peace.

And there was a lot to think about.

Greeu! His companion suggested as he resurfaced again.

No, I don’t see it, he shook his head, sending away a small ring of fat droplets of water. My Will isn’t just a source of energy. It has a direction when interacting energetically with anything, as it should. Not to mention, the effect couldn’t possibly be caused by that alone. If it was just energy for the taking, it would mean that the same thing could be replicated by increasing the energy in the system. And other people already tested that out.

He was at his wit’s end. Aisha’s suggestion was the most logical answer as to why the accident had happened during his last Duel. But he wasn’t able to work out how exactly it ended up in a ‘force storm’ – as named by Makani.

His Will, strange as it was, shouldn’t have affected the outcome that drastically. From what he knew, if it was employed, it influenced the reality and Mana exactly how he wished it to – he never noticed any random effects. And during his fight, he never asked for a storm and chaos of forces to be implemented. He just sped up the Mana circulation in the beads and was directing the Spell construction.

Well… it was less like directing the construction, and more like forcing the Force Weave to explode, but he spent barely any Will on that one.

If it wasn’t his Will, then some kind of an unexpected physical phenomenon took place back there. Something that escalated the effect further. On the other hand, if it was, then he either activated his Will unconsciously without noticing, or the smidgen of the purpose of his Will – a part somehow aligned with the cascading reaction – caused the escalation. But the second idea was preposterous – if he was able to influence the Magicules this much, he should be able to see similar effects when using other Spells.

Yet, the most logical answer was that his Will somehow gave directions to the Force-Magicules. Or, at least, that was the easiest explanation of what had transpired.

Gah, this doesn’t make any sense! he screamed in his mind, grabbing his head in irritation. I don’t even know if it wasn’t partially Danette’s fault…

His thought process made a full loop once again, so he stopped himself right there.

Leaning back with resignation, he tried to change his line of thought, asking himself a more pressing question.

How am I even start explaining this shit to others?!

That was the real issue. A lot of people would expect an explanation, but how could he prepare any answers if he didn’t know what truly had occurred?

There was a possibility that someone would connect the dots if he said too much. Him being a Terrien had to stay a secret for the time being. As so, he had to be able to sell some convincing white lies at least.

It’s not like he was compelled to speak about the topic, but he knew how many problems his Guild would face if he avoided it altogether. Landrods and the government were one thing, but if Towers decided to alienate them, the existence of their Guild would be put in jeopardy. Towers worked internationally and had representatives on every stratum – there was nothing a single Guild could do to oppose them if they decided to pursue the matter.

Okay, okay… deep breaths… he thought, forcing his muscles to relax. If I can’t be convincing and the truth isn’t available, we can just play idiots…

Greeee! his companion complained, noticing the distasteful idea.

Look, we don’t know what exactly happened, right?

Gra…

So, it won’t be a lie if we say as much, right?

Gra?

Pouring some bullshit theories on top to sound like an arrogant fop trying to use the situation to their advantage wouldn’t be that far from the truth, too – we are trying to use the situation to our advantage.

Gra…

Then, to be more convincing, why not act and lie like the said prick would? For the purpose of Soul-reading, we should be safe. Moreover, if I start with that act, they would (most probably) ignore what I say later and (hopefully) ignore our existence. They are looking for answers, and I am not the Force Specialist here – that woman is. No one wants to deal with an unreasonable fool.

Grah.

I am not in denial! That’s sound logic, right here!

Gre, Garum?

Ugh… No, I didn’t take that into account… Becoming an unwilling test subject for the purpose of replicating the accident never crossed his mind.

Gra? he suggested.

No, it’s not okay. I can say that we know nothing and then stay silent, but that will just reassure them that we are hiding something. Even if they use truth reading, it won’t assure them.

Gru shrugged mentally. Gare?

…It’s politics, don’t expect it to be logical. They will try to push until we don’t open or break, I am sure of it.

Gah! he sent back with irritation.

Indeed, it seemed that nothing could be done to decrease the pressure. To spare himself random visits, he decided that attending the banquet was a good idea despite what was waiting for him there. That’s why he was trying to relax in the baths and prepare mentally.

But his mind was constantly returning to the issue, leaving him in a bad mood and with a slight headache instead. The people at the banquet should stay civil and only touch the topic – without pressuring them much about details. But if he wanted to set up the stage for the future, he knew he should decide on the course of action and proceed accordingly as soon as possible.

Faking the role of an arrogant prick would be much less convincing if he didn’t start right at his first social gathering.

This leads nowhere. He sighed, standing up. My body feels a little better. Let’s not waste time.

After drying himself and dressing in a provided toga, he left for his room. Someone from Kwan’s group already brought him a nice set of clothes for the evening’s event – a luxurious, deep-brown set of formal clothes in Roman style, complete with a pair of gladiator sandals that covered the front of his shin. Everything was decorated with black and gold accents, somewhat imitating the color palette of his armor.

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He fought with the attire for a while. Even with instructions, putting up the three layers of fabric appropriately wasn’t an easy task.

His beard and hair were pruned before his bath by the familiar barber from Kwan’s gang. A bit of brushing and he was as ready as he could be for the party.

As was decided previously, he headed to Kwan’s quarters for the pre-banquet meeting. They still had some time to plan around the expected battle of wits.

He arrived early. Only Aisha and Kwan were present, both looking dazzling in their light makeup and perfectly stylized, elaborate hairstyles. Their clothes were also kept in the Roman style, but the tailor had made a few more frivolous choices.

Kwan sported black and blood-red robes that contrasted nicely with her milky-white complexion and brilliantly red lips. The attire seemed comfortable and left much room for movement, but the fabric was tied tightly around her waist, emphasizing her slim figure.

Aisha was wearing much more form-fitting robes, all in neutral white and beige. They did a splendid job of showcasing her fit form without hinting at the musculature hidden beneath.

Simple, but elegant accessories in respective color themes were accentuating their beauty even more.

“You two look gorgeous,” he complimented honestly, walking to the table.

“Thank you,” Kwan said with a small, satisfied smile.

“You don’t look bad yourself,” Aisha added, measuring him with her eyes. “But are you prepared mentally?”

“More or less,” he said with a sigh, sitting down.

He explained his idea of playing the role of an unaware fool, leaving out the details of the issue but still informing them that he had no idea what exactly happened during his Duel.

“Doesn’t seem bad,” Aisha nodded almost instantly after he finished. “Very in line with your… Fullangrarian origin.” She smirked.

“But it sure seems that Danette Gildafi also used something special during the fight,” Kwan said. “If you guys can’t say why it happened, it means we are missing a part of the puzzle.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Zeph agreed.

“That won’t keep us safe from the coming questioning, but should shove most of the burden onto her shoulders,” Kwan continued with a calculating look. “It seems to me that a private meeting with her is inevitable at this point.”

“We can worry about that after the Tournament. She is still unconscious.” Aisha shrugged and reached for her tea cup.

A soft chime resounded, announcing the arrival of another guest. After a quick look at a black panel affixed to the wall near her seat, Kwan turned up one of the knobs lined below and they could hear the door opening.

Moments later, Ghrughah and P’pfel entered the room. P’pfel wore white clothes with many silver accents, making him look more scholarly than ever, while Ghrughah’s – deep gray and ashen-black in color, with metallic adornments – were cut much more aggressively, exposing in places his impressive, if alien, musculature. This made him look more like a rock star; he only lacked face piercings and black glasses to complete the image.

The giant also brought with him a heavy-looking, oversized trolley. Although it looked more like a portable safe case, it made for a perfect imitation of a musical instrument, too.

“The repairs are done,” he announced grumpily, then pushed the trolley to the corner of the room so it wouldn’t stay in the way.

“I will make sure my people transport them to your rooms later,” Kwan said, bowing her head slightly in gratitude.

“Yes, thank you. And sorry for the mess,” Zeph followed, bashfully scratching his chin.

“Don’t worry. We were prepared,” P’pfel the professor assured them, waving his hand dismissingly. “More importantly, did we miss something?”

They talked shortly about Zeph’s plan, then changed the topic to the current happenings.

Makani joined them a few minutes later. He didn’t change his original green-and-gold robes, but the floaty attire was twisted into something more appropriate for the Rome theme. How it could have been transformed to such an extent, Zeph could never know, but going by the sticking-out folds that waved by themselves as if trying to break free, the item has been cursed by the tailor who created it.

Now in full attendance, the discussion started for real.

In today’s fights between the champions, their Guild lost one Duel. Worse yet, it wasn’t even the question of luck – the opponent was much more skilled in melee, leaving no room for retaliation. The pairing seemed legit on paper, but it was evident that the man was much more experienced. He was a true veteran, despite his relatively low level.

If not for the Lesser Landlord Esmonde’s challenge, Kwan would have already lost her chance to attain the full Landlordship title. It went to show just how much the odds were stacked against them in the current arrangement.

It also proved that the Landlords were more resourceful than they expected. It was a trap impossible to avoid; set up long before the Tournament had started. Finding a highly skilled warrior with such a low level was almost a miracle.

Thankfully, he could only fight once, and the chances that they had found another one were almost non-existent.

The information warfare continued to play in the background. Sadly, no major leaks happened – the tidbits they managed to extract would be useful, but not groundbreaking. For example: the true nature of the metallic dust that their opponents started using – Ghrughah’s guess was right, so it was mostly accounted for already.

Information gathered on the leaders was much more interesting, but most of them wouldn’t take part in the fights. It would be helpful later on, but not so much for the coming Duels.

On the other hand, the industrial group’s technology was one of the best-protected assets, so their invigilation team found nothing. Absolutely nothing. Zeph’s group would have to wait for tomorrow to see what they had prepared for the Duels.

The rest of the meeting was devoted to planning around the banquet. Who would try to speak with whom, and what information was the most sought-after; what ‘scanning’ methods were allowed, and who was susceptible to what kind of probing; what to expect, and who to avoid… the list was long and boring.

Zeph tried, truly tried, to stay focused, but the bland topic was making his mind cloudy time and time again. Especially the parts about etiquette – he didn’t even have to know them because he was a supposed foreigner in these lands. It was just a reminder for him, either way.

He didn’t even have new notifications to find an excuse to avoid the discussion. In the previous fight, only his ‘Enhanced’ martial technique leveled up two times, leaving him with nothing better to do than to listen.

He was mightily disappointed that the System didn’t deem it right to give him a clue or two about what had transpired at the end of his fight – another argument indicating that he was merely a part of the cause.

Or that he was too stupid to understand what he did. He wouldn’t know.

The talks continued for almost an hour as he tried to keep his mind from drifting away.

~~

They were marching in pairs down a long, opulently decorated hallway.

The theme here was different – a mix between late Rome and 18th-century Europe, if Zeph was to classify it. The walls were decorated with more paintings. Fake windows hiding niches behind dotted the hallway, fully decorated with artistically carved furniture underneath and heavy curtains falling from above and to the sides. Inside the niches, floral exhibitions and big terraria were fashioned in a way to imitate landscape views.

But stone sculptures, pilasters, and other Roman-like adornments did not disappear. On the contrary, they have become even more elaborate. The marble floor was partially covered by a fluffy carpet that shimmered slightly as they walked.

The colors were kept warm, with a predominance of light yellows, which – thanks to the dimmed illumination – gave the place a museum-like but still regal quality.

Finally, from behind elaborately carved double doors that spammed almost a whole wall, the ballroom emerged.

The large hall had a two-story-tall, ornamental ceiling, and was kept in the same theme as the hallway. The center was left empty for the dancers, while long tables full of deliciously-looking dishes and a multitude of drinks stood between the columns dotting the space. Seating areas were organized near the walls around the exhibitions, and deep alcoves could be spotted between them – for more private meetings maybe, or for people to take a breather. A small orchestra was playing from a partially hidden scene placed near the dancing floor, the soft music dispersing over the whole room without issue.

Not many people noticed their entrance – mainly because the great doors were left open for the time being. But those who did and seemed interested in exchanging pleasantries didn’t make any move.

Their group was free to mingle with whomever they wanted. The banquet was a long affair and, inevitably, they would speak with every eager individual.

Looking around, Zeph didn’t have a problem discerning between the people belonging to different groups. Just as he, his group, and other people from their Guild already in attendance were all wearing Roman-themed clothes, their contenders had been clothed in their own style. It was, indeed, a match to the mixed decoration of this place – a resplendent baroque-like motif.

Moreover, there were small differences between the industrial, merchant, and Landlord groupings. Nothing standing out immediately, but definitely telling – like certain cuts of their clothes, embroidery patterns, or accessory types.

Only then did he notice that the same could be told about people from their Guild – the style of his and other Department Head’s garments translated directly into what lower members were wearing.

Of course, because of that, the room was full of Hannyajin wearing black and red.

Despite the number of guests, the place wasn’t crowded – what with all those Veils hovering around – so he had quite a pretty good view of those present.

…Maybe I should’ve agreed to that designing session with the tailors… My apparel kind of sucks, now that I think about it.

Shaking his head to get rid of unnecessary thoughts, he walked deeper into the hall. Taking in all the sights, he leisurely wandered around, searching while perusing the drinks and food. He greeted back a few people but didn’t engage in a conversation, and they politely allowed him to continue his meandering.

Soon enough, he found his first target.

Lesser Landlord Cyrus Jobenke Lurona-Kazotalo Keiko. The white-armored guy, crushed during the first day by Aisha. It seemed that his limbs were better already.

Before moving closer, Zeph started slowly, and very precisely, forming thin and dense Mana strings that should be undetectable for most people. He was still playing a man handicapped in regards to Mana manipulation, so he started deep inside his Veil before carefully moving them closer to his Veil’s surface.

After finishing preparing, he stopped pretending to relish in the taste of the wine in his glass and opened his eyes.

Ready? he sent to his companion.

Grau!

Then, let’s see what we can find out, he sent seriously while slowly wandering in the man’s direction…