...
Place: Major's House
Time: The next day (evening), after executing the Major and his friends
Listening closely, one could hear charming and melodic hums outside the house of the previous Major. The talented hum-ist was a young man with slightly disheveled blond hair and golden eyes, whose happy tail waggled in joy from side to side like a metronome. He stood in the living room and pulled out an array of various gadgets from his spatial pouch, which he laid down meticulously on the table—of course, parallel to the shorter side.
"I will say that it is a little late, but after our introductions, I hope everyone is ready to go back to business ~♪—" Narsiz nodded at Trixie, who lay down on a couch, eyes closed and still in shock.
Linuel was sitting beside her, caring for her lovingly as she rubbed her back and whispered that it wasn't serious—Narsiz would, of course, disagree—everything he told her was in all seriousness.
However, it could also be that they simply had a stressful day, and Trixie would be fine after a good night's sleep—a little calming tea could also help.
There was a lot to do since morning, as it was the day right after they found out about the rather unfortunate circumstances of Dog-Pudding Island—a tragedy that even disturbed him.
However, the main culprit was the previous Major, who tragically died too quickly, which also brought numerous other problems other than not being able to get vengeance by torturing the vermin until his last breath.
The previous Major was still highly regarded, as most didn't know what kind of horrendous crimes he committed, and his sudden death at the hands of the ruler's son wouldn't exactly put Narsiz in a positive light.
While he couldn't care less about his subjects' perceptions, having their support was still essential for Narsiz to have a smooth administration, especially regarding what would happen in the following weeks. As such, he would need to spread the news as quickly as possible, putting him and Trixie, the future administrator, in the most favorable light possible.
'I still can't believe it worked.'
They were very tumultuous but still manageable as he did what his brother taught him years ago on how to manipulate the masses—marketing.
Narsiz and Trixie went to the more prominent places, with her shadowing him and learning what he did. As such, everyone was pretty surprised when he took some of the previously enslaved and most visibly abused puppies with them, giving them the excuse to show them around their new home.
'So gullible ~♪'
However, in truth, it was to show their depressive state to everyone they met on the way and tell them the story of what happened—little to say, rumors would spread, and with him holding his speech in a couple of days, everyone would already know the current events and almost nobody would shed a tear for such a monster after seeing the poor victims.
Truthfully, he thought he had painted those significant figures in the worst light possible. Still, the situation worsened when they came back, which even forced him to postpone the whole operation—there were far more enslaved puppies than what he saw that evening.
When all the elves and djinns returned from their mission to look around the vicinity and find every enslaved puppy they could, they were actually successful. Narsiz was perplexed by how many were saved and, worse, how large the slave market was overall.
More than a hundred more were found in basements, cellars, bound in some rooms, etc. All were in horrific conditions, some without limbs, traumatized, wanting to commit suicide the moment they became free, which made Narsiz act quickly. He sent an inquiry letter to his brother and the Temple, asking them to send over as many healers and social workers as possible.
Little to say, they didn't have even close to the resources to take care of them, but it didn't matter. For now, they were fine as they used part of their rations and healing potions, as they could get more with the arrival of the aid. Together with whatever the locality could give, they bought everything.
'I need to train for the speech—' He sighed inwardly, still appearing joyful on the outside, but some of his malice leaked as he couldn't get rid of the image of the horrendous abuse.
In a few days, everybody would want to know what exactly happened. However, Narsiz would need to use flowery words and speak around the topic of slavery, as such an illegal operation would immediately draw the Count toward them—an easy task for someone with a silver tongue. The idea was to imply it and let them draw their own conclusions.
'She looked shocked—' Narsiz shrugged, seeing a disturbed Trixie, '— Oh, well, she is too honest ~♪.'
Trixie became his retainer for good and swore her loyalty. There was a lot of talk since she felt empty, as her whole life imploded—a genuinely sad sight, but this was not the reason why she was lying on the couch, needing to be patted.
Little to say, it was also not the terrible events they witnessed or even Narsiz's lying and manipulating, which she disliked but still understood after he explained the reasons.
'Quite ironic ~♪.'
Narsiz decided to approach his retainers the same way his family had—honest and direct, without holding any secrets back, which also broke her after hearing their whole plan.
A panic attack followed after she barely got any air, accidentally breathing through her gills and almost suffocating—only now did she calm down, mumbling something about Outer Circle and the deep sea.
"So—" Narsiz's voice resounded through the living room, with all his gadgets lying on a finely knitted table runner, "— I guess it's time to show you my little puppies!"
Trixie stood up and walked toward him, still somewhat confused but motivated to accomplish something great. Her ambitions were still there, but her body was a little shaky as she needed an hour to breathe normally again.
Others, like Harbog, Makol, and William, came inside as they stood outside, wanting to give her enough space to calm down after revealing their identity.
She slightly greeted them, and they reciprocated the gesture. It was awkward, but all beginnings were like this. When insect and avian kin left central Mal-Gil, it was almost the same situation, with most Moorgrelians having problems adapting to those newly arrived, which resulted in discrimination against them—a solution was needed.
Because of those circumstances, every Guard Household took a good chunk of them as servants, slowly changing the perception. Notions from thousands of years ago slowly disappeared, but the noble households still had servants from mostly those subraces as their puppies took the parent's positions.
Fun fact: not every subrace migrated toward the same territory. Examplewise, the Leonandra's in the east mainly had swan-, butterfly- and spider-kin while Nine-Fire's had parrot-, bee-, and scorpion-kin—with other Guard Households, depending where, had all kinds of different subraces. 90% of them lived in Moorgrel, so there was a lot of variation.
Therefore, he had nothing against Alexander's plan to integrate everyone into their territory, regardless of race—a somewhat new concept he slowly began to like as his instincts of a wolf-kin, which had slumbered since the poisoning, slowly awoke.
Socialization was one of canine-kin's strongest suits, in addition to great sensing, and he wanted to train it more thoroughly—going through phase after phase on how to act, with today it was him being just cheerful.
"Now, now! Not fish and meat, no vegetables and no fruits, but something much better for no price but the poor souls of the bastards who occupy the future territory of our friends and allies! Get it now, still hot and greasy—"
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Like an obnoxious vendor, Narsiz waved them to him, and while they looked like they cringed, he cared little. He needed much more self-confidence, and as he exchanged letters with the first Lady of the Cold-Snout household, he got some pointers on how to train it—acting a little goofy would help to develop critical skills.
However, everyone else was quite confused by Narsiz's jestering. Still, he continued, having no problem being seen like that since one would need never to show reluctance but always take one's role seriously.
"—What is a canon but a giant metallic piece of trash if you have those little beauties? They offer so much more flexibility, many more deaths, and so little less screaming for mercy as they make it quick!"
Narsiz was also genuinely happy since he could show his new passion and the fruits of his labor, which gave him sleepless nights. He found something else he liked besides reading about their kin's history—enchanting, engineering, and the creativity one would need to build and design all kinds of deadly gadgets.
"Is there a taste you seek, you need, you desire? Do you want to inflict pain and torture? A quick death of a single individual or maybe mass casualties—The sky is the limit!"
Alexander saw the potential of his skill [Masterful Writing], coupled with his mana, which enabled him to conjure spells by writing—Narsiz was a natural enchanter.
Combined with his intellect and quick ability to learn natural philosophy like physics and the enthusiasm of a ruthless strategist like Moorgrel, it was a given that his new hobby was to design and build weapons of all kinds.
However, he chose only some simple designs because of the time constraints. The calculations were complex, which meant that Narsiz needed to initially rely on Alexander for this, which further meant he had only a handful of variations.
Alexander was very serious about weapons, explaining many interesting things about them. One of them was that creating weapons was always a matter of trial and error—testing when the operation was essential was suicide. Weapons, especially the ones exploding, liked to fail in the worst way possible.
"Feeling overwhelmed from all the dead comrades or underwhelmed from the bad weather, we have our newly devised little metallic ball of death. This little thing..."
He took the first little gadget of death into his hand, his smile wide and graced with venom and cruelty. He couldn't wait to hear the reports of how his puppies functioned perfectly.
...
Time: A week to two later
Place: East part of the border between Dog-Pudding Island and Whirl-Uru Island
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As they sneaked close to each other, Jorsh wanted to reply harshly, seeing how his finger became strained, but suddenly stopped, becoming visibly unsure whether to perceive it as a threat or loyalty. However, after contemplating, he shrugged, clearly ignoring it.
As Jorsh and his group were gone, William was at last alone. He did not wish to go through this operation with anyone but himself, as he trusted nobody—he always liked to operate independently if possible.
'At last, those morons are gone—' He smiled widely, even blushing, '—Now, how many should I kill for my little Master ~♪'
William's stealth increased to a new level as he used spells to conceal his presence, killing sounds and scents and trying to blend in with the greenish-brown hue of the forest. It was night, and little to no patrol were on the border.
However, he wanted to do his job perfectly. William was responsible for the furthest east-side military outpost, which he could see from afar already, making him even more conscious of his surroundings.
Their attack would start in around three hours—all simultaneously and with their newly acquired weapons. However, the outpost William would attack was the most important one, right before a valley that led to the dungeon. This was something his new little Master wanted, and he should get what he desired.
'His wish is my command~♪.'
Was William zealous, wanting to swear everlasting loyalty to Alexander? Of course. However, it was not only because it was his only chance to save his Mother for good, giving her a calm and relaxed life. He could also serve the only person who genuinely helped his family without wanting anything in return—a saint.
He remembered a conversation at a meeting with Alexander, which made him almost cry: "Listen, Will, right? I know you are really—" Alexander opened his arms, wanting to gesture at everything he was, "—this tense, but should something not work out, I will give you my word that your Mother and everyone else's parents will survive—" He suddenly opened his eyes wide, pulling out a little booklet, giving it to him, "—Right! There are over a hundred good healing talismans in this booklet, and I bet'cha everyone would immediately get much better when used on them! Take them! I promise more later, so relax, okay, buddy? Whatever happens, I am there for you."
Alexander didn't lie. He provided more than five hundred high-grade talismans to the camp, spiking their birthrate and now even enabling them to keep the vulnerable alive. Most importantly, his Mother was well again—he felt undying loyalty.
William was never this devoted to anyone, only living by who would bid the most for him—an expensive sellsword. However, now he felt what it meant to be cared for unconditionally by someone other than his Mother.
'Ah, I remember.'
When he was born, he lived the first ten years in despair, with every breath feeling as if he drank acid, while his body sometimes didn't listen to him, making him unable to move for months—despair and terror.
However, his Mother never gave up. She always cared for him and did everything she could to keep him alive—steadfast and unwavering.
There was no other person until now who was this sincere to him. There were no lies, just a wide smile with a hint of arrogance as the little boy swung his fluffy snow-white tail around in joy. Small lips and large lashes—everything took his breath away when he looked at him—a beauty.
'Calm down—' He exhaled strongly, '—But I can not oversee his beautiful eyes.'
A sense of excitement rushed over him. He became aroused to a dangerous degree, something that only happened decades ago with his Mother, which he needed to suppress for now.
There was something cathartic, almost regressive, about being in the same room as Alexander. He suddenly felt like a kid again, looking at the Father he never had—steadfast and caring, maternal and strict, arrogant and kind, loving and nagging—the perfect Father.
William gulped down, needing to relax, but he rarely felt like that. He wanted to be just a child with Alexander as his Father and his real Mother being together. It would be perfect.
However, seeing how everyone looked at Alexander, full of zeal and love, William became a proud son in his fantasy, imagining having a Father like that, only much older, of course. Such a young boy couldn't possibly have children even though he had no problem with it.
The supplies his retainers organized and delivered to his camp made hunger and thirst vanish. It was beautiful to look at how people cried while eating— all because of the Father he wanted to have.
'That's quite the problem—' He frowned as he suddenly remembered his sins or what the religion of his want-to-be Father called corruption, '—I really need to tell the truth.'
While William didn't want his imaginative Father to get angry at him, he also felt, besides the increasingly heightened arousal, an even greater sensation—this one he hated and had never felt before—guilt.
'What to do with my puppet, though.'
However, even though William wanted to tell the truth, there were a couple of issues to sort through first. He manipulated over thirty younger and lower nobles. By connecting them and giving them a solution to their problems, he accidentally created quite a hostile network, which was bent on destroying the Leonandra Household and other Guard Households.
Fortunately, he wasn't in a hurry. He could consolidate their territory for the next months before going through Mal-Gil, assassinating all their enemies, and burying this problem forever. The last thing he wished for was that Alexander had any threats against him.
'He is also there, hm...'
William also had Klepto, who needed to be wasted as he visited one underworld after another, trying to get other nobles and prominent people on his side. However, killing him should be easy as he was still a puppet, barely hanging to life.
'Oh my, almost daydreamed my way into death, hehe.'
As he approached the military outpost he was supposed to destroy, he saw the first guard sitting leisurely on a tree stump and getting high by smoking some kind of herb with a pipe.
'Oh, why actually not?'
William suddenly got an idea. He straightened up and walked up to him leisurely, using the little djinn language he knew, waving at him, "Hella' ma' colleague."
The guard opened his eyes wide but only laughed, saying something William couldn't understand—obviously extremely high, thinking he was some kind of hallucination.
"Poor bastard, you will die."
After saying it, the guard looked up, still too confused and high, sometimes laughing, talking, and trying to poke William, which made the water djinn giggle stupidly.
'Well, can't have stains, I guess.'
William pulled out a flask with a dark-tinted and poisonous liquid inside. He casually wetted a handkerchief, and as the guard talked some gibberish, he closed the potion and crammed the handkerchief into the guard's mouth, with him suddenly panicking.
As the guard tried to use energy, it was already too late. His eyes rolled backward, and he fell, barely able to breathe, only to die a couple of minutes later, wringing and convulsing.
'Time to bring terror and panic for my little Master~♪—' He suddenly facepalmed, '—I have the cleaning spell! I could've just slit his throat! William, you dummy!'