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7.29

7.29

The Magus of the Ten Eyes studied the man with an eye dedicated to piercing through subterfuge.

The eye revealed nothing.

It was like staring at a blank canvas.

It confirmed his identity.

He had been the only being in her experience to display that ability.

“I check out?” Cal said.

“Yes,” she pulled the eye back from its orbit around him. “It is exactly how it was when we first met. Four years and you haven’t aged a day.”

“Lucky genetics,” he shrugged.

“No. It is more than that. My eyes see in great detail and with discernment. You have not aged a day.”

“Okay…”

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to tell you that your people are no longer unwilling guests of the Slaver King. They’re, I hope, willing guests of myself.”

“Thank you.”

He had no reason to lie.

Though they hadn’t met in person since that day long ago outside of New York City they had maintained sporadic contact through the spires’ messaging system as she sold some of the gear and items she and her companions made out of monster and mutant animal parts. As such, despite her inability to see beneath his surface, she extended a level of trust.

“What do you want to do?”

“Did you free all of them? There would be nine,” she hoped.

All that remained of the people, friends, many of whom had been with her since Egypt. Few had been lost along the way. Most had made it across multiple continents, seas and an ocean only to perish at the hands of slave soldiers and their masters.

There had been no warning. No indication of a threat.

They had been willing to simply turn around despite their distaste for slavery.

The slavers had attacked them even as they held their hands open.

“Yeah…”

“Then, can I ask for further aid in helping all of us leave this evil place?”

“That’s a given…”

“But?”

“I want your help to free everyone.”

“You have a way to destroy the collars?”

“It’s not enough just to break them.”

“I know. The Slaver King described how they worked to me in great detail. It was one of his threats. Do as he said or he’d place my friends in them. Forever enslaved because to forcefully remove the collars meant death, emptiness of the mind or worse.” She nodded thoughtfully, “how will you overcome it?”

“I can’t say. The less people know the better.”

“Of course. And what aid can I offer?”

“I need your power and seeding.”

She frowned.

“I mean, your performance in the tournament has earned many of the other competitors’ respect. I’d like for you to use your clout to recruit a few of them to my cause. As part of my plans I’ve been impersonating one of the so-called ‘nobles’. Don’t ask me how, because I won’t say.”

“I don’t see how that will be possible.”

Even if other competitors didn’t like slavery, they were still alone in the midst of enemies.

Power wasn’t enough for an individual to risk the consequences. As her own situation attested.

“I doubt that any will take the risk of angering the slavers. And you haven’t accounted for the competitors that will or have already aligned themselves with this place. The king’s representatives have been incessant in their recruitment effort. They’ve been offering the world and I’ve already seen many accept.”

“I’m aware, hence why I’m asking you to help tip the balance back the other way.”

“If I refuse?”

“Then you tell me how you want me to get you and your people out of here. I can’t take you very far. I need to stay close enough to maintain my little charade, but I can take you to the edge of their territory. I’d recommend the road leading out to the west. You’ll have to hike through wilderness but there’s an old reservation to the northwest that you could hide in while you figure out your next moves.”

“Just like that? Even though you stated a need for my power?”

“Yeah. I’m not looking for leverage. Asking you to help means that I’m asking you to risk your life for an uncertain reward. We might succeed or we might fail. Or we can end up anywhere between the two extremes. To that end I’m only looking for volunteer help from people that are capable and that know they’re risking their lives or worse.”

“All my life before the spires. I saw it everyday. Experienced it. Oppression based on being born a girl. I thought often that I had been so unlucky. Why couldn’t I live with the same freedom as my brothers? Why did I need to dress a certain way? Why couldn’t I drive a car? Why did I need a man’s permission to simply go outside? And so and so on. Then the spires arrived. They took so much from this world and yet, I saw myself as lucky, they brought me power and now, well, up until recently, freedom. I go where I want. I do what I want… but once again I was shown what it was like to be powerless. I had almost forgotten the feeling.”

“There’s always a bigger guy,” Cal nodded.

“That is only an issue if the bigger guy decides to make it one. You and I… we don’t rule or enslave. So, how can I turn my back now?”

“It’s a choice we all have to make each day.”

“Mine is to aid you. So long as you keep my friends safe.”

“They’re as safe as I can make them. Which is to say that they’re as safe as they can be while being hunted in the middle of this shit hole. I have a plan to get everyone out that relies on the chaos that we’ll create when it’s time.”

“I can only ask you to do your best. I’m not naive to the reality of our situation,” she nodded. “What am I to do in this plan of yours?”

“I can’t write this down for opsec reasons, but I know you’ve got a great memory thanks to those eyes of yours. So, pay close attention. I’ve identified a number of Gold Division competitors that share our anger towards the slavers. I want you to approach them using your magic to keep your conversations out of the slavers’ ears.”

“I will need more than moral outrage to recruit them. They all understand the deadly consequences of open action against the slavers.”

“They won’t have a choice in truth. The Slaver King’s about to get more pushy. To the surprise of no one, those promises about the freedom to leave after the tournament aren’t exactly ironclad. Tell them you’ve got a reliable source that their continued freedom is contingent on tying themselves to the king. He’s planning to have everyone swear an oath or two. And swearing an oath hits differently when he uses his Skills, especially with his level.”

“Yes, I’m aware. He tried to force me to swear fealty, but I managed to fight him off… it was a close thing.”

“It might be a good idea to share your story with them. Do you have a truth spell or gem?”

“I do and most people in my level range have some way to discern lies from truths.”

“It’s useful.”

“But not infallible. Nevertheless, my story has been circulated by the king’s men. I suspect as form of cautionary tale and to show how powerful the king is in comparison to myself.”

“That’ll work to our advantage. The slaver’s gave your words more credibility. Anyways, are you ready to go over the plan?”

She willed the magic in one of her eyes to life.

What Cal said wouldn’t be forgotten.

“I’m ready.”

“Okay… so, you’re going to have to carrying on with this farce, but winning isn’t that important unless you really want the rewards. I’d ask that you and the ones you manage to get on our side minimize the injuries you take even if it means losing. Now, if they’d rather not lose out on winning rewards, then you can counter with the fact that if they sincerely jump on board with me there’ll be a Quest. Its got multiple parts and conditions to fulfill and once you get it you’ll see that the rewards are just as good as the ones the tournament offers with the added benefit of doing the right thing. With the added bonus of avoiding slavery in all but name to the king. Obviously, if we fail then it’s death or worse.”

She paid close attention as he laid out his plans.

----------------------------------------

Cal found Holly sitting in Lord Wynn’s office when he returned.

The room hadn’t seen much use when Don wasn’t in a psychically-induced coma, which incidentally made it the least disgusting room in the sprawling mansion.

“Did you know there was a vampire other than your friend?” Holly said.

“Yeah…”

“How did they get the class?”

“I don’t know. Probably the same way anyone gets a class. They met the necessary requirements, whatever those are.”

“If one of them bit me, will I become a vampire or a vampiric slasher?”

The woman’s internal monologue weighed the potential benefits and drawbacks.

I operate at night, so the loss of the day won’t matter. The vampire woman was a lot stronger and faster than me. I’ll be better if I had that too. The need for blood is a tether, which is irrelevant since I hunt people anyway. As a vampire I’ll drink their blood then kill them or kill them by drinking their blood. No… I’ll need to maintain balance between slasher and vampire or I’ll risk losing one or the other. I could end up having two classes. An additional vampire to slasher. That’ll slow overall growth until consolidating the two. Then again what if vampire replaces slasher, like slasher did for my old classes?

“I’d imagine it takes more than a bite. Otherwise there’d be more vampires out there, right? So, that implies that transmission isn’t automatic, like rabies, which makes me think that it would require a conscious effort on the vampire’s part. Some vampire myths say that to become a vampire a person must also drink the vampire’s blood. That it requires willingness on both parties. And no, I’m not going to ask my friend to try it out on you.”

Simply telling her that she couldn’t do something wasn’t going to work. Holly didn’t care about what he wanted. She was only going along and listening to his instructions because it benefited her in the moment.

Who could’ve foreseen that employing a sociopathic murderer would present difficult challenges?

“Chasing after a new class or upgrade isn’t in our agreement,” he targeted her pragmatism. “Deviate and I’ll put you to sleep. Where you’ll remain until we’re done here and then you’ll go right back into your cell.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

No more opportunities. No more kills. No more strength and levels. I’ve already gotten 7. Almost to 40. That many levels in two months is worth following his rules. Appeal to the Quest? The arguments I can make are based on conjecture. Just as many potential negatives as positives. He only cares for the Quest. I can’t show that I’ll endanger that. I need to kill and gain as much as possible before we’re done here. He’ll put me back in my prison until the next time he needs me to kill. Until I’m capable of securing my long-term freedom I need to maintain the current state.

Cal suppressed the urge to rub his eyes.

Mistakes had been made.

Although, he couldn’t deny that Holly, the Slasher’s murder spree was doing as intended.

She had stuck to the agreement.

No innocents had fallen to her knives.

Only the worst kind of people.

Still… he didn’t feel good about himself for being directly responsible for her rising kill count and levels.

He took a moment to check the hidden safe guards he had placed in Holly’s mind.

They were in place.

He considered adding a few more but decided against it.

Her surface thoughts revealed that the vampire fascination was buried for another time.

The less he tampered the better as far as he was concerned.

He was already violating his self-professed standards and slippery slopes concerned him.

“Okay. That’s all,” Holly abruptly stood. “I’ll be in my room waiting for my next target.”

“Thank you.”

He spent the next hour in his mindscape reviewing the secondary set of potential allies.

He had sent the magus to recruit three initial candidates.

Blackstar, the woman with the ability to fire black, star-shaped blasts that hit with concussive force.

The towering woman with dark, metallic skin and tremendous strength and durability.

And in a bit of irony, the magus’ next opponent. The woman going by ‘Emerald Bomber’.

That was a bit of unfortunate luck.

He wouldn’t blame the woman if she wasn’t receptive to the magus. It would only be natural for her to think the magus was just plotting to gain an advantage for their match.

He dismissed the unsuitable ones for a variety of reasons.

The werewolves were monsters pretending to be men.

The clowns were insane.

Malcolm, the king’s champion gladiator, possessed the right mindset to be of use. Unfortunately, the man was already a slave to the king even without a collar.

Some were bad people. Murderers, rapists and the like.

Others, like the ones from the old U.S. Government had their own agenda that didn’t align with his plans to free the enslaved and destroy the collar system. True to form, they wanted to steal its secrets.

He made a note to watch out for them when the time came.

They’d move in the chaos and try to escape with said secrets, perhaps a person or two, though they didn’t know that there was really only one man behind the collars’ creation. And that man needed the Slaver King to make it work.

Others had already thrown their lot in with the slaver kingdom.

There was only one that he knew for sure was on his side. Even if Isaac’s help was volatile and had a chance of erupting in everyone’s faces as fire in the shape of a man struggled to reign in his nature.

Cal welcomed the man from Seattle’s help.

Isaac was likely the second most powerful fighter in the Gold Division one versus one tournament.

The first was a massive headache for him.

The blue-haired girl… the less energy devoted to her the better.

His only real plan for her was to hope that she’d get bored after winning the whole thing, which itself was contingent on her not being pushed hard enough to reveal her true self and destroy the stadium along with a good chunk of the city in the process.

He briefly toyed with the idea of setting her on the king.

Then decided against it.

It would’ve been the ultimate distraction, but he was trying to free the enslaved, not kill them and everyone else.

With his work done he rose and made his way to the wing where the magus’ friends were staying.

He had good news and bad news.

The magus knew they were safe.

She was going to help him.

Which meant that they were stuck in the mansion for the foreseeable future.

----------------------------------------

The day after Christmas had passed and so to did the break from the Freedom Championships.

On December 27, 2036 at stadiums, arenas and other venues the events commenced once again.

“Reflective Shield! Get in there, Talia! Cut them up!” Adal pointed to a cluster of monsters resembling twisted rat-people. “Reflective Shield! Go, Mena! Wait for my shield to break and do it’s damage then cast Wind Wall to scatter them!” he pointed to the second cluster.

He needed to shave time of this run if he wanted to advance to the next round.

As the competition winnowed down the times it took to stay in it shrank.

This round had seen them near the bottom after the first two runs.

They only had two more runs to improve enough to secure one of the qualification spots.

Fail and they’d miss out on the final run and a chance to win the top prize for the round.

The shield around Talia exploded dealing damage back to the monsters.

The long-limbed girl whirled her sword around imitating a blender.

Red chunks sprayed in all directions.

Mena’s shield did the same.

Her wind wall scattered them.

Two went flying over the railing to fall three stories down to the mall’s first level.

One landed at Adal’s feet.

“Shield Strike!” he slammed the metal-lined edge of his shield on the back of its neck.

The loud crack brought a smile to his lips.

They were gaining so much from the championships.

Levels, spells, Skills and Universal Points.

The latter wasn’t as important as the rest.

He always had access to all the points he needed thanks to his parents.

But this?

This was all his doing.

In a small stadium that was once a college basketball gym, X-Ray hit the dirt.

He had finally run into an opponent he couldn’t beat.

A fighter that didn’t use magic.

Without spells to absorb, X-Ray was merely a strong, well-trained man, which was nothing to a strong, well-trained man that had Skills.

He rolled over with a groan to stare at the spinning lights in the ceiling.

Like little fairies taking him home to rest.

“Disappointing to come out here for that display,” Aims said, “but I did win some Universal Points on the bet.”

“How much?” Mouthy said.

“Five thousand.”

“Fuck! Fuckity fuck! I was this close to betting, but I figured it was shit to bet against a fellow ranger,” Mouth said.

“I won too, sarge,” Bluesilk said.

Several of the other rangers nodded.

“Traitors,” Mouthy muttered.

“Eh… not really, we all knew that X-Ray was going out as soon as he got matched up with a non magic-type,” Aims shrugged. “It was a foregone conclusion, so my conscience is clear.”

“Are we gonna have to carry him back?” Cherry Chapstick said.

“Nah, they’ll heal him up first. Fucker can walk back like the rest of us,” Mouthy said.

“Damn, do you think this means X-Ray doesn’t have that hotel room anymore?” Bluesilk said.

“It he doesn’t then that means he’s going to stay with the rest of us at our new, even shittier motel,” Mouthy said.

She exchanged a look with Aims.

They knew what the sudden inspection and eviction really meant.

The slavers had finally found a smell they didn’t like in their sniffing around.

The clock was ticking and all they could do was keep waiting on Cal to give the go ahead.

On the once grassy field of a high school football stadium dirt bloomed in great clouds with each teleport Drake, better known as ‘Sticksies’ to the spectators, performed.

He had scattered several javelins around the field when it had become clear to him that he wasn’t going to penetrate the heavily armed fighter’s defense. The stout woman was clad in thick steel like a walking tank.

She had blocked all his spear strikes with her shield and Skills while proving tireless as she plodded after him.

He was reduced to keeping his distance and firing spells that she took on her shield.

Regardless, the match was his to lose.

He was the only one doing damage no matter how little and the judges would have no choice but to declare him the winner.

Then again one never wanted to let it go to the judges if they could help it.

Thinking better of it, he decided to take a risk.

Spear Teleport brought him to a javelin sticking out of the ground behind the heavily-armored woman.

Double Thrust scored two strikes in one on the woman’s thick back plate.

The screech of metal on metal along with the sparks provided an impressive display that he and the woman knew was ineffective.

The judges couldn’t dock him for not engaging.

He spun his spear to cast a magic shield that blunted the woman’s follow up hammer strike.

Again the impressive bang of the hammer on his shield created the illusion of action and excitement.

From the roars of the crowd he had achieved the desired effect.

He dismissed his shield and backpedaled twirling his spear with a flourish.

Again, more for looks than efficiency.

He would never had done so in a real fight or against an opponent fast enough to make him pay for showboating.

The woman’s scowl was barely visible behind the thin eye slit of her helmet.

Sorry, Drake thought, bad match up for you… and me… but I’m not standing still so you can smash my head with that hammer.

He teleported to a distant javelin to catch his breath and recover some stamina and mana.

A quick glance at the fight clock on the scoreboard told him he only had to keep it up for a few more minutes.

A few miles away in yet another stadium Trevor hurled a handful of ball bearings as a distraction.

The opposing warrior shielded his mage teammate behind a large round shield.

Goldy, the unnaturally huge golden eagle swooped in with an ear-splitting shriek, huge talons outstretched for the mage’s eyes.

That was also a distraction.

Their opponents weren’t evil assholes like Team Alpha Sigma, they were just regular people trying to win and improve.

The mage woman didn’t deserve to lose her eyes and be badly scarred.

Goldy closed her talons and bonked the woman on the forehead.

The hard, but smooth side of her talons clanged against the steel helm.

The mage woman’s eyes crossed before she fell over backward.

Goldy flapped powerful wings to soar out of the warrior’s reach.

That was when Licorice struck.

The impossibly huge dog rammed the warrior in the back.

To the man’s credit he stumbled but didn’t fall.

He spun and aimed a slash with his sword, which clanged against Licorice’s coat of layered steel scales.

The dog yelped at the impact even though it didn’t penetrate his armor.

“Hey! That’s messed up! Don’t kill my dog!” Cara called across the dirt field.

“Fuck! That isn’t a dog! It’s a lion! And it’s trying to kill me!” the warrior snapped.

“No he isn’t! He’s just trying to knock you down, so he can sit on you!” she snapped right back.

“That’s bullshit! These giant animals are fucking bullshit! This isn’t three on three! It’s five on three!” the warrior ranted.

“Cara,” Trevor sighed, “please don’t talk to the opponent in the middle of a fight and please don’t tell him what you’re trying to do. Now, get Licorice ready.”

Cara nodded.

Trevor hurled a baseball over the warrior’s head.

The man was wise to Trevor’s tricks but he couldn’t turn to block the baseball on its return because doing so would expose his back to the giant dog. He also had to account for the dark shadow circling above him.

The baseball drove into the back of his knee forcing him down.

“Now!” Trevor said.

“Go get’em, Licorice! Mass Increase!” Cara pointed.

The black monster of a dog leapt and flattened the warrior beneath the man’s own shield.

The warrior struggled, but even with an enhanced strength passive there was no budging the much heavier dog. “This is bullshit,” he muttered as the dog dripped great globs of slobber on the man’s face.

On the other end of the field Amber dueled a swordswoman.

The flash of blades, one steel, one magic, dazzled in the sunlight.

They went back and forth.

Each scoring hits on the other.

Magic and steel vying for supremacy.

It looked as though they could’ve battled until they reached the time limit.

And then a baseball struck the swordswoman on the back of the head.

It rang her metal helmet like a gong.

She stumbled.

Amber capitalized, disarming the swordswoman and tripping her to the ground.

“Yield,” she touched the tip of her glowing amber sword to the swordswoman’s neck.

The Watch team advanced to the next round of the Silver Division three versus three event under the rabid cheers of thousands.