Note: The new title wasn't working out, so we're returning the original title of 'The Greatest Trick Ever Sold'

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Loveless

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A pair of softly glowing green eyes fixed on Atlan’s seventh prince. They lacked the warmth the nymph had shown when she first appeared, but Bram wasn’t overly concerned. He’d been the subject of icy glares all his life and knew how to return one with equal venom.

She didn’t reply to his proclamation of a bargain either, but Bram didn’t mind this breach of etiquette. Ignoring him was a pastime enjoyed by most of the nobles in the Sovereign’s court. Bram had learned to become numb to being overlooked.

“Maybe she didn’t hear you,” Bridget whispered from behind.

“She heard me… This is just how the great game is played.”

“So, it’s a power move?”

Bram nodded.

Nobles attempting to subtly show their rivals who had the advantage was another favorite pastime in the Imperium, and this nymph with her haughty display was attempting to prove her dominance over the prince.

Bram sighed inwardly.

Recalling his dark past made him feel on edge, which wasn’t good when in the middle of negotiations.

“Mother…”

He quickly tamped down on his ill feelings, replacing them with a smile that could light up a room, one he’d used often to make the ladies of the Pillow Court swoon. For this, he’d learned from the Delightful Troupe, was a reliable way to deal with someone under the sway of the seven ‘Great Evils’ at the root of corrupted desire…irresistible charm.

“We’ve come to bargain.”

It wasn’t just his voice which dripped with charm that caused the nymph’s face to flush. Bram’s looks were irresistible when he needed them to be. It’s why she lost her icy glare, replaced instead by a wanton expression capped by the biting of her lower lip.

Here was proof that she had no control over her desires. It was a weakness he could exploit.

“Sugoi,” Hajime whispered—to which Chris added, “Some guys just ooze sex appeal.”

“I prefer not to see that expression on Master Mina’s face,” Ravi grumbled—to which Bridget replied, “I’d probably have that face too if the prince smiled at me like that.”

“Eh, maji?” Hajime sounded conflicted—prompting Chris to say, “He’s seventeen, Bridge.”

“And yet more manly than most thirty-year-olds I know,” Bridget countered.

Bram ignored the banter.

It was hard enough to keep his focus on this nymph, who, with every gesture—the shifting of her long legs, the stretching of her torso, the bouncing of her chest—seemed intent on trying to seduce him. Thankfully, Bram only needed to shift his gaze to the Stargazers’ young sorcerers to fuel his bubbling anger and shake off the nymph’s attempts at breaching his mind with wanton thoughts.

The nymph noticed where he was looking, though she seemed to misinterpret his defense strategy for interest.

“What have you come…to bargain with…?” asked a dreamy voice which hadn’t come from the nymph’s lips.

A silver-haired, brown-skinned young woman rose from her seat on one of the thick roots. She was naked like the others, though she didn’t show an ounce of shame while her bare flesh was exposed to the party.

“Alkaid…” Ravi’s voice was strained. “…What has this monster done to you?”

The silver-haired woman, attractive by even Bram’s standards, didn’t reply. From how her glazed eyes passed over him, it didn’t look like she recognized the vice master.

“Who is she?” Bram asked.

“She’s Kazem’s granddaughter,” Ravi answered, further explaining, “Alkaid’s a prodigy of the Divination Arts. We can’t lose her to this spirit.”

“We won’t,” Bram promised.

“You came…to bargain…” Though these halting words had come from Alkaid’s lips, there was no doubt who she was speaking for. “…For these children…?”

“Yes,” Bram answered.

This wasn’t exactly true.

He simply wanted to know if the mad nymph could be reasoned with, though he had every intention of putting her to the sword. Especially now as he watched her pull Alkaid’s strings like an abusive puppeteer.

“I’ve grown tired…of my lovers…” The young woman’s hand came up to cup her left breast. “Have you come…to love me in their place…?”

Alkaid’s other hand went up to caress her cheek.

“Will you…show me…love?”

Despite the show, not a single member of Bram’s party seemed moved. At least not in the way the nymph intended.

“Bakayarô,” Hajime growled.

Instead of desire, they felt only pity for the young woman.

“First time since coming to Aarde that I wish I’d brought my gun,” Chris weighed in.

Instead of seeking pleasure, they sought justice against the one pulling on her strings.

“No matter how sad your backstory,” Bridget’s eyes narrowed, “taking it out on an innocent’s just wrong…”

Instead of sympathy for the puppeteer’s tragic origins, they felt only repulsion for her corrupted nature.

“I do not consider myself an altruist,” Rowan spoke up, “but even I feel disgusted by this display one should only expect from a god…”

Ravi said nothing, but with the way blood leaked out of his fists, it was clear he too felt great rage at what was being done to his disciples.

The nymph seemed unperturbed by their sudden hostility though. Her focus remained fixed on the prince who was the leader of this party. Only his words mattered—and Bram didn’t disappoint in bringing down the hammer.

“You speak of love…” There was a slight tremor in his voice. “But this…”

After carefully lowering his lute on the ground beside Rowan—arguably the safest place to be in a fight—Bram aimed the tip of his sword at Alkaid.

“This isn’t love…” Rage simmered inside him again, though it seemed tempered by compassion this time. “It’s a perversion — a corruption of love.”

His blade shook slightly as its tip swiveled over to the nymph who sat so vulgarly on her root.

“You who were spurned by love, betrayed by love, forgotten by love,” though he too had known little about love in his short life, Bram’s voice lacked sympathy for the scorned nymph, “I rename you thus…Loveless. She who plays at love but can no longer know it…”

Then there came a rumbling—the ground shaking in anger at Bram’s words.

How. Dare. You!

The fel voice in the air now reverberated all around them.

Know. Love!

To Bram, it was like a thousand ants were suddenly crawling inside his head. From the way they trembled, his companions were experiencing the same.

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Lost. My. Love!

“Holy shit!” Bridget covered her ears with shaky hands, but it did little to lessen the pain. “It’s like she’s yelling…right into my brain!”

Deceived. By. Love!

“She’s making all our heads hurt!” Chris’ face crunched up in pain. “Hajime—”

Forgotten. By. Lo—

“—shut her up!” the Texan roared.

“Form into a fist…o rumbling earth,” Hajime chanted as loud as he could, “and strike down my foe with hardened dirt!”

Rock and Dirt flew up to form a large fist floating next to the tip of Hajime’s wand. This fist seemed larger than any he had conjured before, glowing fiercely like an emerald jewel, and was seemingly fueled by Hajime’s heightened emotions.

“Shatterstone!”

The glowing, boulder-sized fist shot forward at tremendous speed—and still missed its target. No, this time, Hajime’s aim was spot-on. It was his spell that was made to miss. One of the thick roots of the great red pine rose to block ‘Shatterstone’ before it could strike at the nymph who now had a tag above her head.

Loveless

It was red—a sign of great danger.

Hajime’s newly empowered ‘Shatterstone’ had such force that the collision between the fist and the root caused an explosion loud enough to drown out the rest of Loveless’ whining while also serving as the signal for battle to begin.

With Chris at his side, Bram darted forward. Their target was the silver-haired woman caught in the splash damage of Hajime’s sorcery. A chunk of rock had smacked into the side of her head, and now she swayed like a marionette whose strings had fallen off. She blinked once, twice, and then a third time with awareness blossoming in her expression.

“W-What…?”

She had lost her dreamy voice. In its place there was panic and confusion. Before Alkaid could scream, however, a mercenary’s cloak fell on her shoulders, its folds covering her naked flesh.

“It’s all right,” Bram spoke soothingly, “we’re here now.”

Wariness remained on Alkaid’s face. “W-Who…are you?”

“We’re pals of Ravi.” Chris, who had arrived a step after Bram, pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s back over there.”

Alkaid’s gaze drifted past Chris, past Bridget who was notching an arrow to her bow—this one with a strangely bulbous tip—past Hajime who was conjuring a second ‘Shatterstone’ with his wand, and over to the blue-haired man who had a warm smile plastered on his face at seeing his disciple’s gaze on him.

“Vice Master!” she yelled.

“Come to me!” Ravi motioned her over. “Quickly!”

She. Is. Mine!

Loveless’ fel voice set Bram’s teeth on edge, though this voice lacked the strength it possessed before as if they were now hearing her through a wall that kept her dark influence at bay.

Laughter filled the air, girlish and impish in the same breath.

This is all the aid I can provide, came Rowan’s voice to their minds. I must concentrate on the exorcism…

Bram glanced over his shoulder to discover a curious sight.

At the other end of the hall, Rowan sat cross-legged in the air. Her eyes were closed while her lips moved as if she were busy chanting complicated incantations.

“We’ll handle the rest,” he promised.

No sooner did these words escape his lips when one of the other enthralled Stargazers—a tan-skinned youth with tattoos covering his arms—leaped toward Alkaid like a beast pouncing on its prey. Fortunately, his bare fists could only clash against Chris who had been prepared to block the youth’s bull rush with his shield.

“No, Merak!” Alkaid screamed.

The youth called Merak paid no attention to her for he seemed intent on pounding on Chris’ shield without care for how bloody his knuckles would get.

Chris grunted. “It’s like I’m bullying a teenager!”

“These addled youths will tear at your flesh with their fingernails if you go easy on them!” Bram warned.

“Fair point!” Chris conceded.

The Texan pushed the tan-skinned youth back with his shield, but Merak rushed at him again—and he wasn’t the only one.

A second girl with pale blonde hair like Bram’s and a figure more voluptuous than Alkaid’s strode forward to try and trap Kazem’s granddaughter in an embrace that would have dragged her back to Loveless’ side. Fortunately for Alkaid, the prince stepped in before this came to pass.

With his left arm extended, Bram charged forward and caught the second girl’s neck in a ‘Lotharian Clothesline’ that knocked her to the ground. It may have been too harsh a wrestling move to wield against a drugged opponent, but Bram couldn’t help being a little rough because he recognized her.

“You…”

He’d met her several times in the capital’s gathering of young nobles; Phecda of House Asher, one of the granddaughters of the Dux of Acrae, and a girl who’d once been considered a candidate for marriage to Atlan’s seventh prince.

“So, this is where you ran away…”

Though she wasn’t to be the final choice of the Sovereign’s advisors, Phecda didn’t wait to learn her fate. Unwilling to accept the ‘Ill-Fated Prince’ as even a prospective husband, she escaped the machinations of the Sovereign’s court by joining a sorcerer’s coven, one that was said to be based far away from the Imperium’s capital.

“Strange that I would run into you now…”

Their paths had split two years ago, and he never cared much for her, but Bram couldn’t help feeling the sting of Phecda’s rejection even now. This young woman who lay groaning on the ground served as a reminder of his past failings.

“Boss!” Chris yelled, drawing Bram out of his reflections.

The Texan had just finished bashing the side of Merak’s face with the front of his shield, but the enthralled youth, desperate to perform his duty, clung to Chris’ leg and wouldn’t let go.

“Y’all got incoming!” the Texan warned.

Bram turned to his left just in time to see a fourth Stargazer—a tall, dark-skinned man with a rugged figure, his mane of unkempt curls framing a fierce-looking face—charge at him with reckless abandon.

“Dubhe,” Alkaid called, “stop, please!”

Bram had become so distracted by Phecda’s appearance that he’d allowed this next challenger to take his blind side. He would’ve paid for his negligence with a savage blow to the face if an arrow with a bulbous tip hadn’t smacked the man called Dubhe in the chest a step before he reached the prince. On impact, the arrow’s bulbous tip exploded like a balloon, its powdery contents spilling into the air.

“No!” Alkaid screamed.

Kazem’s granddaughter, who’d moved to help the groaning Phecda, now looked wide-eyed as a thick cloud of white powder enveloped Dubhe.

Meanwhile, Bram, knowing that Bridget had just used her one and only ‘Knockout Arrow’ on the dark-skinned youth, dove down to shield both Alkaid and Phecda from the white cloud which he knew was made from an alchemic concoction derived from Milk of the Poppy, a drug that could cause a wide array of debilitating effects to one who imbibed its poison.

Dubhe coughed, coughed some more, and then, with a moan and a groan, he toppled over, with his moaning continuing even as he lay writhing on the ground.

“What did you—”

“He’s only been drugged.” Bram’s eyes fixed on her to convey his reassurance. “It will pass.”

“A-Alkaid…?”

Both Bram’s and Alkaid’s gazes snapped toward the young woman lying beneath them.

“Phecda!” Alkaid wrapped her arms around her friend. “You’re free of that monster!”

“I… what’s happened to—”

A pair of bright blue eyes widened at the sight of Bram hiding behind Alkaid’s shoulder.

She frowned. “I…I know you…?”

Bram’s brow creased. “Only in another life.”

He rose to his feet while dragging both young women up with him.

“Go to where your vice master waits.” Bram stepped past Alkaid; his longsword drawn once more. “We’ll hold the line.”

A brief look of gratitude, and then the silver-haired young woman was dragging her confused friend back to the hall’s entrance. He hoped they would make it, although there were other threats near him now for Bram to worry about their safety.

“Hey, Boss,” Chris positioned himself behind Bram, “I think we’re outnumbered here…”

The Texan had finally dealt with Merak, but now three more Stargazers were drawing close.

“If that last kid was any hint,” Chris let out a deep breath, “then they’re all stubborn son-of-a-guns who’ll keep coming at us until we put their lights out…”

The enthralled youths crawled on the ground like beasts, their limbs twitching with each step. Though disturbing to witness, the prince was thankful their brains were so addled that acting like beasts was all they could do.

“Look on the bright side.” Bram also took this time to steady his breathing. “At least they’re not wielding sorcery against us.”

“Thank the Almighty for small favors then,” Chris chuckled, adding, “So, how do you wanna do this?”

Bram adjusted his grip so that the flat of his longsword’s blade was facing forward. “Hitting them hard on the head seems to help break Loveless’ hold on them.”

“Cognitive recalibration.” Chris hefted his shield. “My new ability can help with that.”

One of Bram’s brows hitched upward.

“You’ve learned something new…?”

“I kept slamming that other kid with my shield the same way and the Loom rewarded me with a—”

Their. Love. Is. Mine!

At Loveless’ cry, the youths attacked Bram and Chris like wild beasts—and the duo dealt with them as if they were the beasts of the Red Forest, matching their savagery with savagery.

“Sorry, Bud!” Chris apologized when he rushed at a blue-haired boy. “Shield — Bash!”

A little envious, Bram watched the telltale sparks of sorcery envelop Chris’ shield, causing a coating of magical energy to wrap around its front. With his shield glowing with soft starlight, Chris bludgeoned the young Shamvalan once, twice, and then a third time to ensure that he would crumble to his knees, leaving him vulnerable to an attack from on high by the flat of Chris’ sword.

“Wow, that was brutal…” Bridget had just arrived and zipped past Chris’ left side. “Didn’t know you had it in you!”

Chris was too busy fending off a new attack from a tan-skinned youth—one who looked like a mirror image of the tattooed boy the Texan first defeated—for him to respond to Bridget’s teasing. Unfortunately, his shield’s light was already spent, and the now wheezing Chris could only grit his teeth while Merak’s twin slammed his shoulder against the Texan’s shield.

“Shatterstone!”

A boulder-sized fist coated in an emerald aura struck Merak’s twin in his shoulder.

The force sent the young man hurtling right into the path of Bram, who, using his longsword’s pommel, delivered a crushing blow to the back of his head akin to a hammer striking a nail.

Merak’s twin toppled face-first onto the ground, and he didn’t rise again.

Bram then flashed Chris a smug grin as if to say he didn’t need a new ability to render an enemy unconscious. Nor was he out of breath like the Texan was. Chris caught the look, and he could only grin back.

“You’ve got higher…strength than me,” the Texan reasoned. “I’ll catch up…so—”

“Yatta!” Hajime yelled excitedly, oblivious to the friendly rivalry blossoming around him. “Nice assist!”

The arcane novice arrived to help, but Hajime came too late. Bridget had just used the strings of her short bow to strangle the last of the seven young sorcerers. This pale-skinned girl with plaited dark hair fell to the floor with spit bubbling at the corners of her mouth.

“That was…oddly satisfying,” said a breathless Bridget.

“And she…called me brutal,” Chris half-chuckled, half-wheezed.

The otherworlders resumed their playful banter—what Rowan once claimed had been their way of coping with stress—but Bram had already tuned them out because he noticed something that demanded his full attention. With his gaze darting left and right, the prince caught the movement of every creeping vine, every tree root, and every leaf rising from the ground moving suspiciously toward the party’s position in the middle of the hall.

“Phoebus’ cock…the forest inside this place…” The hand holding Bram’s sword shook with fear. “They’re all part of Loveless…and we walked right into the bosom of her trap…”