“That you think we’d just let you in says more about you state of mind than your intelligence!”
Faust grimaced at the Baron’s raised voice. Shouting never solved a lot of things, especially in a world filled with men who could birth lightning from something as simple as their skin. In a world with soul mages, why did people still shout.
“Are you new to this?” he asked the man seated on the other side of the table.
The man who’d introduced himself as Lucas kept a strong scowl on his face. “No.”
“Let me rephrase.” Faust took off his hood and stared the man down with crimson eyes. “Where you a Baron during your Baron wars.”
The man wasn’t stupid. There was fear in him, but he was simply smart enough to hide it. Faust knew fear. He knew when his seminarians had it and when his priests had it. The man before him might be a Baron, but so were a lot of his priests.
He leaned back on his chair and sighed. “Why are you and your government unwilling to let us in?” he asked. “We will need all the hands we can get to close it.”
“You already have people inside,” Lucas argued. “People who got inside by shedding blood.”
“At least you’re smart enough not to call them innocent blood,” Faust mused.
“Innocent or not, they should’ve listened to whatever commands the government—”
“Much like you,” Faust cut him off, “We do not answer to the government. So if you’re going to play puppet in front of me, you’re the wrong puppet on that sit.”
Lucas frowned behind the forest of a beard he kept on his massive face. “It doesn’t change the fact that lives were lost. Some of them were adventurers, some hunters. Mages of the government aren’t the only casualties.”
“And an attempt at seeking restitution can be made when all this is over. You and I know the Barons I have within the crack won’t be enough to close this one. Barons are no longer the peak of soul magesc, and history has done enough to teach us there will be beasts within that crack that stand beyond Barony. And judging by how calm you are, they haven’t astarted showing up, but it doesn’t mean they won’t.”
“We already have that taken care of.”
“How?” Faust scoffed. “You and I both know neither the government, the adventure society, nor the hunters’ association have anything above a Baron to their name. hell, even the convent doesn’t have one. The Vatican might have one but we already know what they think of the remaining organizations that have sprung up all across the world. They refused to help yours when you came for us, clearly they’ve turned down your request for their aid.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that they’ll be entering the crack.”
“Of course not. They’ll definitely enter the crack on their side of the world. But how much damage do you think the one on this side will cause before their done with theirs. How many mages will you lose?”
“The sun king—”
Faust made a dismissive gesture. “The Sun King Herald in a child playing god in a land of the uncivilized and lawless. He’ll no sooner help you than demand the wife of the world president. The Sun King Herald will close the crack in Africa and let the rest of the world rot.”
Faust leaned forward, rested his forearms on the table in front of him. “Let’s be open here. You’re certainly trying to employ some kind of negotiation tactics here. It was the same thing that dead government official tried when the adventure society was in charge of the last world crack. Why do you look so surprised? There’s very little the seminary doesn’t know of. Even the words the pope mumbles in his sleep are archived in the seminary libraries.”
“You have spies here.” It wasn’t much of a question than an accusation.
“Every one has spies, Baron,” Faust waved the topic aside. “What matters now is that you need more Barons inside the crack. And I have them to give. Give us leave and we’ll be more than willing to help.”
“And give you more chances to grow? What makes you think you’re any better than the evil behind that crack.”
“Because we are a necessary one. However, aren’t mistaking my courtesy for weakness? You seem to be under the impression that I can’t walk in there without your permission. I’ll have you know I am merely employing the same tactics mine used before succumbing to violence.”
“You think you can take us?” Lucas spat. “We have enough manasteel to pump one Baron full of holes.”
The four golds behind him raised their guns and took aim at him.
“Careful now,” Faust warned them. “Your boss over here isn’t the only Baron in the room.”
Behind him John and Ulrich had frowned at the disrespect. There was little doubt they would be shedding blood today. All he wished was to keep human blood from being part of it. But if the Baron in front of him chose not to comply, there wasn’t much he could do. And that would be unfortunate. From the reports he’d been receiving of West Blue, the man was the guild master of the adventure society branch there. He was also Jim’s friend.
Lucas spared John and Ulrich a brief glance. Again, he kept his fear from his face.
“Yes,” Faust confirmed his unasked question. “Their both Barons as well. And they’ve been Barons since your Baron wars.”
“Three Barons won’t make any difference.”
“And you certainly don’t believe that piece of detritus that just left your mouth. The little I know of you would stand in my favor.”
This time, the fear was harder to conceal. Faust watched the Baron pale.
Stolen novel; please report.
He opened his mouth to say something when the door behind him opened and a man stepped in. His movement was robotic, mechanical to a point. He wore a shirt of brown cotton and a simple trouser. Every other part of him not covered in clothings of some kind was bound in white wraps with runes of varying styles inscribed unto them.
It was an inhumane use of runes. And they call us monsters for not obeying them and killing some of theirs.
Faust shook his head as he watched the man take his place at one side of the small room. “And that must be the infamous Runebound Baron. His name is known greatly.”
“Then you should know what he is capable of,” Lucas said.
“Oh, I do. But it changes nothing. Without a willing Herald, you’ll need all the Barons you can get.”
“And who said we don’t have one?”
Faust sat back. That was odd. The seminary’s intel spoke of every Baron they’d tried contacting and the negative outcomes. There was another Herald outside of the Sun King, but the seminary had no updated intel on him. If they had somehow contacted him and gotten a positive feedback, that complicated things slightly.
“Impossible,” he said. There was a touch of panic in his voice he’d failed to school and he chastised himself for it.
Lucas smiled at his tone. “And why is that, priest?”
Faust’s lips pressed itself into a thin line.
“Is it because no one has ever been able to confirm his location; because he’s always on the move?” Lucas smiled derogatively. “Did you think your little cult was the only group with capable spies. We have ears everywhere, too.”
Faust disregarded the man’s words. Their spies were inconsequential, both the government’s and the adventurers’. Even the convent had a better reach than they did. The only organization with better spies than all of them was the Vatican. Why? Because as far as the seminary knew, they had none. And if the seminary couldn’t find any, it didn’t mean they didn’t have any. It simply meant they couldn’t find them.
Also, if these spies this Baron spoke of were really any good, then they would know they hadn’t found this Herald. He’d found them.
Why was the man who’d stayed away from the last two world cracks, the first known Baron, suddenly taking interest in a world crack? The simple thought of it scared him.
Why would the Wandering Herald agree to help the government?
“Why the sudden silence, priest?” Lucas sneered. “Can’t run your mouth anymore?”
Faust spared the man a simple glance. With his new way, he could practically smell the blood running through the man’s veins and the touch of his power over it, though not absolute. He was already confused as it was, and knowing the Wandering Herald, the man could be somewhere within listening distance right now. The last thing he needed was for him to hear a simple young Baron talking down to him.
“Be careful, child,” he warned. “Your faith in the runebound isn’t enough to prevent me from killing everyone else in this room and walking into that crack. I only negotiate for the sake of peace. If you doubt it, try me.”
Lucas took a moment to be quiet. Behind him the armed soldiers bristled, each of them of gold authority. The Runebound Baron, however, showed no sign of even being aware of the conversation. Faust had no doubt the room could be on fire and the man would simply stand there and watch. It was shameful to see humans fall this low, to have one human take away another’s free will so thoroughly.
His sympathy for the man lasted only a moment before he spoke again.
“So you’ve somehow managed to employ the assistance of the Wandering Herald.”
Lucas nodded once. It was clear he thought that was some kind of card he had against the seminary. The most enigmatic soul mage at his beck and call. If only the fool knew.
“I believe we’re done here.” Faust got up and gestured at John and Ulrich so that they turned for the door. Before he left, however, he offered the adventurer one last piece of advise. “In three hours we will return, Herald or no Herald. When we do, it’s up to you to decide if there’ll be blood shed or not. But know that there will be no negotiation.”
………………………………………
Jeddiah stared at the improvised office the government had set up outside the crack. Improvised wasn’t necessarily the word to best describe it, however, it was close enough.
It was a black container raised above the ground at over ten feet with metal balustrades and a winding stairs any who wanted to go to it had to climb. It was a clear matte black that glinted off the light of the sun very mildly. Since it was evening, however, not much glinting was present. In fact, there was no glinting at all.
Faust had brought himself along with Ulrich and John for this meeting and asked he wait outside. The rest of his priests present were situated in far too many hiding places. As a Herald, he was enough to turn the tides if negotiations broke down and peace was no longer an option. So was Faust. The Bloody Baron had always been a menace to deal with.
“You’ve grown quite well.”
Jedidiah frowned at the presence of the voice but didn’t look back. For someone to have been able to sneak up on him meant the man was at least of the same rank. Which meant, immediate violence was not an option.
“Cool your temper, child,” the voice continued, coming to stand beside him. “I’m not here for you.”
Now that they stood side by side and the man proved not to be an immediate threat, Jedidiah turned to look at him. What he saw confused him.
The man had tattered hair, clumpy from a severe lack of care. He was built like a brick, large and muscular but not necessarily tall. His height was average but his physique made him seem stocky. As for the clothes he wore, they were very much like the hair on his head, tattered and unkempt, faded into severe discoloring.
And he walked with a smell. One so putrid it was all Jedidiah could do not to throw up.
“I know,” the man said, scratching his hair and expelling dandruff. “I’m not much to look at but it’s not like its easy to do the things normal people do with my situation.”
Above them, the door to the container opened. John was the first to step out with an expressionless face. Ulriich followed behind him, strolling like a man who’d just enjoyed the evening air. Faust was the third to leave. He stepped out without expression but scowled the moment the door was closed behind him. it told Jedidiah all he needed to know.
“It seems negotiations have broken down,” his guest said, echoing his thoughts, then turned to him. “So how are you guys going to do it? Assassination? All out assault? I’ve always wondered how exactly the seminary operates these days.”
Jedidiah attacked without a moment’s hesitation. He gathered wind reia to his hand, a diversion created as earth reia gathered at his feet. His wind guarded hand struck with the force of a tempest behind it and the ground cracked beneath. At the back of his mind he drew on force reia, hoping to crush the man in one blow. With all three aspects at his beck and call, he struck.
Everyone knew them as priests. Those with a certain level of power knew them as Reverends. While everyone knew of the seminary, there was a way the man had mentioned it; something demeaning. As if they were a bunch of children playing at violence. But it wasn’t anger that had spurred his decision, it was the recognition of a threat that should not be left alive.
The air around them was displaced as the man dodged the blow and stepped on his foot to halt the cracking earth. The force reia that gathered with enough strength to crush a Baron’s head in one strike simply shattered. Force reia wasn’t Jedidiah’s strength, however, to lose his hold over it was insulting for a Herald.
The man stepped into him and in two moves Jedidiah was on the ground with a throbbing cheek.
“He’s strong,” the man said.
Fear touched the cape of Jedidiah’s existence, the first since his evolution to Herald.
“Was he one of the promising ones or is it just a result of his authority?” the man continued, and Jedidiah realized he wasn’t talking to him.
Faust, Ulrich and John were standing before them and Jedidiah was shocked to find the two Barons bowing at the waist.
Between them the Monsignor stood with thinned lips that were stuck between a frown and a smile.
“We,” John and Ulrich began in unison, “guardians of Dante Faust, Monsignor of the seminary, greet Truman Elswich, Wandering Herald, Monsignor Emeritus to the seminary.”
Jedidiah stared from the ground with a gaping mouth. The Wandering Herald was once a Monsignor of the seminary?
He sighed, suddenly tired. “Well, shit.”