“Ah...that. Well.” Her tone grew displeased. Not at him, or at least not obviously so. This topic didn’t seem to be her favorite, though. “Getting rid of Belmordo was a fantastic move, but if we’re being honest, we can’t ignore the Hangman. Rumors travel fast. There’s a good chance he’ll soon come to Penumbria and investigate what happened to Aspreay.”

Adam had considered that possibility. While it wasn’t his favorite plan, if he had to fight a Hangman, the only way he’d stand any chance would be to start the fight in Penumbria where he could use his Lord Talent. Alternatively, he hoped to be able to talk his way out of it somehow. He already had half of a plan in mind for that.

“I’ve considered spreading rumors that I’m Aspreay’s bastard son,” Adam said, slowly. “It could make the takeover seem borderline legitimate – and to anyone who doesn’t know my Talent, it would explain why he allowed some random nobody to work in his court. If I can make my case, the Hangman might believe me.”

Solara chuckled lightly at first, then burst out laughing. “I think the idea that Aspreay fathered a child may be a harder sell than you’d think,” she said. “It could work. Nevertheless, you’ll need some time for the rumors to take effect, and the Hangman isn’t going to lag behind us for long. There is no guarantee that he’ll come here, but you should still prepare for the possibility.”

“And judging by the way you’re smirking, you think the Dragon Puppets would help with that?”

“Frankly, my initial plan was to just get you out of here somehow. Even if they deem you a traitor, they won’t run rampant in the city – not if you aren’t here.” She shrugged. “Penumbria and Gama are already too linked for me to be uncaring of your fate. My priority is keeping you alive. But if we can keep you alive long enough for the Aspreay rumors to take effect...”

“Which brings us back to the Dragon Puppets. How come they’ll keep me alive?”

Solara eyed him curiously. It was a look Adam had grown used to seeing since entering the painted world, but it had become rarer lately. The ‘What the hell are you talking about, did you hit your head or something? This is obvious’ look.

Adam really wasn’t a fan of playing the amnesia card. Even if Solara had heard of it – and he wasn’t sure that was the case – overusing that card just made him look vulnerable. Easy to betray. It was better to investigate in a manner that didn’t admit ignorance.

Then, even if they find out I’m full of shit, they’ll just assume that my supposed amnesia was what I was actually hiding. Some people know about my supposed lost memories, but it’s better if I treat it like something I’m trying to hide, like a shameful open secret. Makes the whole lie more believable. Just gotta give the act a few more layers.

And one such layer was to cover up his ignorance with arrogance. “Come now. Do you truly believe that the Hangman won’t get through if I hide among the Dragon Puppets?” What should I add to make that sound believably myopic on my part...right! “Last I checked, the Hangmen annihilated the Puppets. They annihilated them so thoroughly that we used the hole they blew through their mountain as a tunnel to cut the travel time between our cities.”

“And yet they couldn’t completely eradicate the Puppets,” she fired back fiercely. “Do you think the Emperor would have stopped short of that if he could? He can’t get to the remaining underground settlements. Their Grandmasters have seen to that.”

Adam wasn’t sure about much when it came to psychology but he knew one simple truth in life. If you act like you’re uncertain about something, people will invariably suspect that you don’t know what you’re talking about. They won’t even bother correcting you, either.

But if you act like an asshole making broad claims, they will tell you what you want to know, in a ridiculous amount of detail, while not second-guessing your credentials at all – just to prove you wrong.

“Oh? Are you sure of that?” Adam asked, stifling a laugh. Then, he leaned forward and said with a serious tone, “You and I both know that if the Emperor really wanted to, he could kill them.”

Adam did not, in fact, know that. And just as he expected, Solara couldn’t resist countering his argument. “He could,” she began, “but considering how far this region is from the capital and the people he’d have to mobilize, the Orb cost of that campaign would be absurd. Do you have any idea what he’d need to break through their protection?”

He feigned laziness, scratching the back of his head. “Eh...let’s see...”

This time, she was so impatient she didn’t wait for him to finish speaking “The Grandmaster of the Puppets has an Emperor-Ranked Talent. Blacksmithery may be of Silver, but that would still mean he’d need, at the very least, someone with a Gold Talent of Prince to have a shot.”

Adam’s mind raced through whatever inferences and theories he could glean from that. “Well, there’s some truth to that,” he said, as if he understood it.

Back at the tower, the Ghost had said that a Talent cannot overcome a stronger Talent. Yet, there appeared to be more to it than that. If I take both those claims at face value...I think that Talents have a hierarchy of sorts. They can compensate for a difference in Rank by simply having a better Talent...to a degree.

This logic held up, as far as Adam could consider. Otherwise, a baker might be able to bake bread so amazing that a swordsman of equal Rank was unable to slice through it. He then imagined a more extreme scenario, where an Emperor-Ranked baker made literal bread armor, impervious to weaker Talents entirely.

While funny, it probably didn’t happen too often. People with weaker magical abilities were unlikely to get enough Orbs to upgrade themselves.

Don’t know the exact hierarchy yet, but if Solara is confident in her assessment, so am I. He made a mental note to update his notes later.

Notes on the Painted World

— Talents cannot beat Talents of a stronger Rank.

— Addendum: the strength of the Talent also takes into account the type of Talent. Some Talents have a higher standing than others.

— Talents of higher standing can compensate for a difference in Rank, but I don’t know the precise amount of Ranks as of yet.

— Maybe do some tests later?

— Solara said that an Emperor-Ranked Silver Talent would need at least a Prince-Ranked Gold Talent to counter it. How many steps are there in that hierarchy?

— However, Talent users can still be hurt indirectly.

That was probably the most he could guess in a short amount of time. There was no way for Adam to know how right or wrong he might be...which meant the only way through was forward. Unfortunately, he also knew the risk of making conjecture based on limited information. Crossing over that tightrope of logic grew more and more difficult every time he tried it. If he kept pushing his luck like this, he’d phenomenally fuck up sooner or later.

But not now, hopefully. “So you’re saying that the Grandmaster of the Puppets covered their underground cavern with enough material that the Emperor wouldn’t waste his manpower hunting them down?”

“At the very least, I can promise you that even a Hangman won’t be able to get through that,” Solara said, sharply. “And even if he could, there’s no way he’d start another war against the Puppets. Not without the Emperor’s approval and support. Attacking them by himself – when they are essentially violent recluses that rarely venture out of their dirt – would be ludicrous.”

“And you want me to deal with them?” Adam asked, in an incredulous tone. “Why would they do business with me?

He wanted to say, I don’t know much, but I can guess they hate the Empire as much as you do. Instead, he said, “Do you know of a way to get there safely?”

Solara hesitated at the question, but only briefly. “I do.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“There is one merchant ship that sometimes stops in Gama. It often travels to the Puppet Mines. He appears to have formed some sort of relationship with them, and has performed services for Father in our stead.”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Well, that explained why Vasco had been so confident about his ability to trade with the Dragon Puppets during their first negotiation. So that hadn’t just been an empty bluff, huh?

“And you don’t sound happy about it because...”

Solara allowed herself a deep sigh. She put her feet down, seeming to search for the right words before speaking. “I’ve only heard rumors,” the elf started, carefully. “My spies sent me letters while I was in the tower, but...well...”

“Go on.”

“They’ve noticed that the merchant has to replace his crew...quite often. Enough to be suspicious.” She shook her head. “Anyhow, the Mines are safer than Penumbria, and you need to find a way to get more Orbs for your city, yes? So you don’t have a choice!”

There was some logic – key word being ‘some’ – in her claims. Adam hadn’t heard of the Dragon Puppet mines while studying the geography of the region, or else he’d have planned for them much sooner. But if they were a powerful, Empire-hating group hiding underground, located close to Penumbria and Gama...

“Wait a minute,” Adam said suddenly, lifting up his gaze to meet Solara’s. “I was wondering why you were pushing so heavily for this. You want to recruit them to our side, don’t you? Because you want the Emperor de–”

“Shh. The walls have ears.” Solara’s eyes sparkled with naked ambition. There was a touch of mischief to her smirk, like a child caught stealing desert before dinner, rather than a noble harboring treasonous Emperor-slaying ambitions. “Oh, no, you got me.”

And here I thought I was doing a decent job at tricking her...she’s dangerous. Can’t let my guard down for one second. “You’re something else.”

“I told you, didn’t I?” There was no shame in her tone. Instead, there was pride in the elf’s voice – more so than in any actual nobleman Adam had met so far. “I have a dream.”

She sounded optimistic, innocent, as if killing the fucking Emperor deserved the same gravitas as opening up a candy shop by a small town. Then again, given her past, he could see why.

“Well,” Adam said, after a sigh. “Whatever your plans are...you still raise a solid point. This might be the best way to keep me alive.”

Adam couldn’t trust her. Not yet. But he could trust that he’d be of use to her dream. As long as the Emperor was his enemy, she’d want him to stick around.

“The only thing left will be to convince Lord Tenver of the idea,” Solara said, with a shrug. “He is your right hand man – and a good reason why your claim to Penumbria has any legitimacy at all. It may not be best to go against his wishes, and he expressed distaste at the idea when I suggested it earlier.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” Adam peered down at the report Tenver had prepared for him. “Wonder how we should–”

Oh.

Solara leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

“You and Tenver,” he said, slowly, “are rather difficult to handle.”

Between the notes on their economy, seized goods, and how the Rot had been advancing in the city, Adam’s eyes wandered to a corner of the page where Tenver had left a few handwritten suggestions for their next actions.

HOW ABOUT THE DRAGON PUPPETS? THEY’RE HARD TO REACH BUT I HAPPEN TO KNOW A SAFE AND FAST PASSAGE.

“Tenver,” Adam muttered. “Buddy. You were just acting like that was a bad idea. Why are you – what’s your game?”

He heaved a heavy sigh. I need sleep. Goddamn it, I need sleep. Don’t understand what Tenver is doing...can’t trust Solara...but maybe I won’t need to worry. If we hear reports that the Hangman turned back and isn’t coming down to Penumbria, everything should be fine.

--

THE IMPERIAL CITY OF GAMA — THREE DAYS AFTER BELMORDO’S DEATH

Gryphon the Hangman was having the time of his life.

“Hey you, waitress – get me more wine!” he shouted, laughing drunkenly. When she bowed her head and left, he laughed again.

This was the best.

Not only did he get to kill some annoying fuckhead, he was also getting treated like a king in Gama. Their lord wasn’t present, and he’d just killed their acting leader, so the city was bending over backwards to serve him.

“I said more alcohol, goddamn it! Ah, that’s fucking better, lady! There...there you go, thanks!” Dear god he was drunk. He hadn’t been this drunk since, what, six or seven months ago? Best to enjoy it while he could.

Gryphon couldn’t stay there forever, of course. While he had a lot of leeway with the Emperor, he was still the youngest of the Hangmen, and needed to do his duties lest the walrus-faced bastard unleash the other Hangmen on him for disobeying orders.

And that...now that, would just suck.

His current excuse for being here was that he was trying to find out how Belmordo got cursed. That way, he could explain everything to the Emperor when he returned. Whatever. Honestly, he probably wasn’t going to find anything, and he wasn’t looking particularly hard either. A few days of investigating would let him report back that he did look, though.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing. The Gama lords kept bugging him to head to Penumbria and investigate some crazy dude. Apparently, he’d killed the lord over there. I could not give less of a shit if I tried, he thought. They better stop asking me about that.. As far as he was concerned, good on the guy for murdering Aspreay. Not that Gryphon knew Aspreay, but the guy was probably a prick anyway.

Still, the local nobles were very insistent on trying to get him to listen.

“—Master Gryphon—”

“—Please, Master—”

“—Just a moment of your time—”

Shut the fuck up, will you? The constant interruptions were making it harder to enjoy the drinking, dancers, and partying. He’d already killed some monsters for them as a bonus, so why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Maybe I should head back to the capital already. These idiots will get worse every day that I don’t listen to them.

“Look, I was here to kill the Cursed noble, and did. My job here is done. I need to report back to the Emperor and – wait.” Gryphon suddenly stopped. He sat up in his chair, shoving away the dancer wrapped around his arm in order to grab the parchment from the noble’s hand. “Where did you get this?” the Hangman demanded. “WHERE?”

The supplicant noble bowed his head. “My lord, I...I apologize. This is the Lord of Penumbria’s gift that was bestowed upon the late Belmordo. We’ve been trying to tell you for days–”

“Silence.”

Gryphon studied the drawing carefully. It was a terrible portrait of Belmordo, so bad it almost seemed intentional, drawn with a single color – black ink. In fact, the drawing was so bad that there wasn’t much to make out of the style itself.

But there were other signs there.

Many, many signs. The way there was an even uglier outline of the sketch – who else sketched a sketch? – in one corner, the way the artist appeared to avoid the edges of the page...well, well, well...

The Hangman stood up, instantly feeling sober. “I’ll be heading to Penumbria,” he announced.

“Master, thank you! Please, as we’ve been saying, Belmordo was the victim of–”

Gryphon wasn’t listening anymore. He reached for his knapsack and withdrew his most precious object, placing it beside the page and comparing some old things with it to test his theory. Yeah...he was right. He had to be. I don’t know how...or why...but I’m right.

He slammed his fist at the table, his eyes fixated on the drawing.

“What are you doing in this world, Adam?”

Dancing, music, and celebration still echoed throughout the tavern, but they were of little consequence now. The nobles continued to pester him, and their voices might as well have been the wind for all he cared. Peasants sang along to the bards, off-tune, and he didn’t even tell them to shut up. None of it mattered.

Beside the drawing, his tablet’s screen shone bright.

Eric Gryphon

Viscount of Painting

Count of Hangmen