Tales of the Old World Demon Lord
Chapter 13 – Voices of reason
[Eternum Calendar 1971]
“Are you insane?! Just how many people do you think have gone missing in the past week because of that monster?! Now you want us to throw even more victims at the problem?!”
A loud voice shattered Morgant’s dazed state of mind, bringing him back to reality. It was unknown exactly how much time had passed, however by the time he regained his composure the conference had already descended into a contest of shouts and accusations. Only the smallest semblances of a coherent conversation were taking place between the most prominent members of the group while others supported one of two camps.
The first camp discussed plans to charge right into the heart of the problem and deal with it in a more direct fashion. They argued that waiting any more will simply result in more casualties thus they wanted to form a strong expeditionary team to defeat the ‘Goblin God’. Morgant thought about this proposition for a moment but had decided to abstain in making judgment until the end. If anything they had too little information as to what was truly going on to run head first into a problem that took many lives.
The second camp discussed barricading their city with walls and trying to stave off the problem until it all blew over. This too was a flawed argument as it assumed that the problem could ever be solved through time. There was no indication to even think that this would be the case, thus in reality this option should only be called upon as a last resort. Not to mention with their city’s main economic source and produce coming from overseas trade.
“What better time to do it now when we have the men, resources and the will to do so?”
Francisco Longmoore, the leader of the Merchant guild proposed from the side of the expedition party. Thinking about it from that perspective he did indeed have a point. At the current moment they had enough resources and manpower to mount a counter offensive into the forest to deal with the problem. If they waited any more or if they decided to go with barricading themselves then both the will to fight and their resources would slowly dwindle. Attrition was rarely ever the correct option to play against an unknown enemy.
Standing next to the Merchant Guild’s Leader was Yvonne the Townguard captain. As a person known for her straightforward approach she, a kin from the proud vampire race, had found herself siding with the least likely of partners. It was an odd composition, a headstrong warrior captain with the sly and deceptive merchant.
Yet his other peers did not see eye to eye on this matter. To them it felt as though Francisco was taking the lives of men in too distasteful of a manner, almost as resources and not actual lives.
“We, um, don’t have any information about the enemy. I don’t think we should be spending our men and resources in such a rash manner. I believe what we need to do now is set up a defensive wall and try to stall the enemy.”
Gerald replied in a rather meek but somehow convincing voice. The supporters on his side all nodded their heads vehemently in agreement and tried to point fingers at the opposition about how they were too ‘hasty’.
Defending his position with him was the town’s mayor who only really supported him since it was the only option to avoid confrontation. His job as the mayor was to ensure the safety and prosperity of the town, thus he couldn’t afford to voice such rash opinions as violence.
Morgant didn’t particularly like the barricading option himself, yet he couldn’t deny that it would at least solve the problem of people going missing. For now it would be a decent, albeit temporary, solution to the problem. However they would soon have to act since Vertloch Snowdown wasn’t exactly an entirely self-sufficient town.
“And you think walling ourselves in will give us that all important ‘information’ about the true culprit? Don’t fool yourselves; what we need to do is seize the opportunity before we start losing our momentum.”
Francisco argued back. It was subtle but to Morgant it seemed as though Francisco had somehow figured out that there even was a ‘true’ culprit. Whether it was through mere intuition or it was deductive reasoning, Morgant was thoroughly impressed by the outcome.
“But, um, if we do decide to attack the enemy we could lose everything. I think that you’re underestimating them. This kind of situation has never happened before so we shouldn’t be making hasty judgments.”
In such a manner the discussion swung from one side to another without ever truly coming to an impasse. Soon there were no longer even traces of that coherent dialogue between the two camps as they descended into a forum of chaos and shouting; anarchy. At the current time Morgant continued to observe the situation with a slightly detached amusement and interest.
Interestingly, Miko had been far removed from the conversation as soon as the camps split up. She merely stood at the back as she looked on without even being given a chance to voice her opinion. If she really had to pick a side it would have most likely been with Gerald’s party as she had promised Diana not to venture into the enemy’s territory.
However, on the other hand if Morgant had to absolutely pick a side then it most likely would have been with Francisco Longmoore’s. As the more proactive side it was also the one that was most likely to obtain the most amount of information. ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained’, or so they liked to say. That being said he wasn’t in total agreement with sending an entire expeditionary force, a small scouting party would suffice for the time being.
Only after they had determined the true enemy, both in that forest and within this conference can a true decision be made. Otherwise, like the adventurer guild’s leader, Gerald had said, it was a ‘rash’ and possibly even self-detrimental move.
Morgant then turned his gaze towards the three ‘special’ guests that were invited for this small conference. They were now calmly looking back at the disorder as though they were watching some kind of theatre play out in front of them. Perhaps they had given up on joining the fray or perhaps it was a sense of arrogance that stopped them from even trying. Whatever it was Morgant was rather disappointed with their unresponsiveness to the entire situation.
“Hey, do you think we’d give out to a bunch of low level goblins?! Are you looking down on me, bastard?!”
One of supporters of Francisco’s camp shouted across the room.
“Are you an idiot?! We don’t even know what kind of monster is capable of kidnapping and killing so many people! We can’t just blindly charge in like dolts, or are you exactly the kind of mindless mook that blindly rushes into a problem without even a forethought?”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
This time one of the supporters of Gerald’s camp shouted back with added insults.
“What?! I just can’t fathom how exactly you can stand back like a coward when so many of our friends and family are disappearing by the day! Don’t you even feel a slight bit of outrage?!”
As the voices started to drown out in the small conference room a single loud noise shattered the argument on both side. The round table in the middle of the room was snapped in half as the knight named ‘Sipher’ slammed his fists against it. He stood up, towering over most of the people in the room and looked down at them with a rather disappointed glare.
He clicked his tongue before he spoke.
“You people with your constant bickering will not get you anywhere. You wanted information about the enemy? Fine, I’ll personally go out and find out the truth in your stead!”
Complete silence had filled the room as the argument on both sides had been forcefully ejected. Since it was true that their biggest problem was the lack of information they couldn’t voice any objections towards a volunteer that actually looked quite capable. One by one, slowly, the people started to nod their heads and accept this route of actions and finally the air of conflict had died down as they started discussing when and with whom the Knight would take.
However amidst of all of this, one person was not satisfied with this turn of events. Morgant clicked his tongue as he cursed at the knight in the back of his mind, ‘Idiot’. The most immediate problem was indeed the unknown enemy that loomed in the forest but the true enemy was a person on the inside. Since he had just killed the information Morgant was no longer able to mine any more information about the true culprit within their own ranks.
‘[The key to dealing with those weed is to let their hubris grow to such a size where it becomes detectable]’, it is what Morgant wanted to happen. Sovereign understood that people were most unguarded and compromised when they felt that they had already won. The key to dealing with inside traitors was to strike at those pivotal moments; however because of the actions of this ‘Sipher’ it was likely that the enemy would hide themselves even more.
However it wasn’t an entirely lost cause; Morgant now had a perfect chance to see a person with a threat level of 562 in combat. Though he wasn’t exactly happy about this trade it was the best he could do with his limited interaction in this conference. With that said there was also one more person that caught his attention, ‘Este Fallon’, a young girl sharing the same surname as he.
‘A coincidence?’ Morgant asked himself as he stared at the hooded little girl. Even back when this planet was called ‘Earth’ many people shared similar surnames. At the very least jumping to conclusions could turn out detrimental thus for this judgment too, Morgant had abstained. It was also curious as to how she was titled, ‘Runaway Princess’, yet as to what that really meant was also shrouded in mystery.
Another interesting fact was that her threat level was at 291, which was actually higher than most average adults. He wondered if she would also be joining in with Sipher on the scouting mission, though admittedly he would be fine with just seeing Sipher’s capabilities since it was mostly to be used as a frame of reference.
“Then it’s settled, myself and my companion will be heading out to investigate early tomorrow morning.”
Sipher decided and left with the hooded girl, not even giving anyone else to object or put in another word. Morgant shook his head and breathed a sigh as he thought about the prospect of getting up early in the morning again.
With the sun soon to be setting it was time for the conference to disperse for the day. They would be meeting up once more after Sipher had returned with any information on the enemy. However the day wasn’t over for Morgant, he had decided to visit a specific person from this conference to discuss potential plans. Those plans being for the identification and capture of the true culprit behind this mess.
…
With the sun sinking back into the horizon the night had once more engulfed the entirety of Vertloch Snowdown. The meeting had been adjourned until Sipher was successful in his investigation into the forest. Alone, Morgant wandered through the snow covered city before arriving at a moderately sized trading post. This was the place that Francisco Longmoore had been conducting his trade and business and was conveniently closed for the night.
Despite that various people came and went as though the place had not closed already. Morgant let off a smirk as he thought that the way of the merchant wasn’t always so lavishing and gilded; they too had to put in effort to maintain their image and business. Whilst many people would blame them and point fingers at how they manipulate the lives of others they also fail to understand that in any field hard work and dedication is required.
So then how does one impress such a figure to listen to the stories of a small child? A figure that has worked his entire life to build his wealth and legacy with his own hands? The answer to that question was not through money; good merchants are rarely impressed with what they already have in exceeding amounts. In any occupation, when one takes their skills above a certain threshold what truly impresses then is not their occupation but a sense of thrill. It no longer becomes a ‘job’ but evolves into a ‘way of life’ at that point.
Francisco Longmoore, whilst a man that lived on his vices, was not entirely an evil one. With a keen ability to see through the shroud that blinds most people he was correctly able to deduce that another figure was manipulating the events from the shadows. Though his skills in detective work were still a little green, Morgant felt that this person could become a valuable asset.
He was a merchant that dealt heavily in trade and exports, meaning he understood a lot about the other cultures and races. He also had the funds that could become great help in procuring resources that Morgant needed. He was smart and rarely manipulated by the flow of other’s charismas or charm, not to mention he himself possessed quite a polarizing charisma. Being hated was as equally valuable as being beloved; of course it all depended on how it was utilized.
But most of all, the reason Morgant had chosen him was simple.
After all… Francisco Longmoore was ‘Human’.
Morgant smirked to himself as he activated his [Stealth Field] once more and entered the [Longmoore Trading Post].