Joey is quick to give Drenar one last alchemical booster–this one tastes like the most bitter licorice he's ever tasted, and he gags before tossing the canister aside, just as the bulkhead door opens. They're by the heavy console nearest to the center, and several Talons walk calmly into the room, about twenty-five of them. Six more of them file into the room and take up positions by the cabinets of maintenance equipment, humming electronics, and regulators for the blue fluid conducting around the crystal array in the center. It's not unlike a steam turbine setup, essentially. They all look around anxiously, guns lowered, but they're itchy.

He can feel the tug of multiple kinetic strings, and hopes enough of those flashbangs go off as intended. Kyle relays quietly into his headset.

“James is saying Kiera is making like a bat out of hell to the library. I can't transmit voice, something got damaged on the teleport, but we need to hold tight.” He's whisper-quiet, and Drenar taps the button to send out a burst of static to acknowledge it.

Assuming they had reached the library, they had to slide down the access shaft, dash through the caverns, and onto the grounds, in about ten minutes.

He needs to stall this for ten minutes. That should be easy enough. He’ll just let the diva do the talking. And there she is–wearing what he presumes is black armor covered in droplets of blood, staining the white enamel silhouette of a dragon clutching a lily. How appropriate–such beauty, draped in reprehensible violence, the way she is all smooth pale skin, ruby red hair, and eyes that seem almost alight in malice when she walks past the bulkhead. Two heavily armored knights close the bulkhead behind her. And that sword on her back, it's close to a meter and a half long, and the metal is crimson color, the grip inlaid with gold. There is a small skull embedded in the hilt. How fitting. How does she even wield that thing in combat, apart from draconic strength?

“Hey Val, welcome to the party, truly. It only took us wiping out a third of your force to bring you to the negotiation table,” he says with measured restraint. “How have you been? Get a tour of the woods of late? Or the teleportal hub? Maybe you had to dig yourself out of a couple of debris piles, first.”

“Hah. You truly do sound like that rogue, at least from what I heard of him in passing. It's been a while, Alex,” she grins. There's a cold dread that drips down his spine, how does she know this?

Your guess is as good as mine, but Volkir could see something of me with those glasses. Whose to say that fancy tiara on her head doesn't do the same?

He doesn't let it shake him, and he tilts his head to the side. “It's Drenar, actually–”

“No. I'm talking to the wayward dragon soul trapped in you. I recognize the mannerisms, the way Crosomer described him. And you do look like him, to a small extent. But much more like Lyssa. You're the one running around causing me problems. You and the mewling girl next to you. Curtis mentioned someone had tipped him off about Lavernius, but didn’t mention a name, just rosy-colored hair, and purple eyes. Where is he, by the way?”

“Oh, you mean the traitor? We blew him up. It was kinda gruesome. And you cut one of my friends in half,” Joey says in an unnaturally calm tone. He knows otherwise because that pathway between them–whatever it is–is tinged with pent-up fury, little burning sparks down his spine. She’s got a vested interest in killing this monster, too.

“Useless chattel, anyway. Now then, where were we? Having a chat with the son–no, probably grandson or great-grandson of the person I murdered,” she adds while flexing lightly on the platform. Drenar dares a glance at the expanse below, it’s a deep maintenance area of tubing and mechanical turbines, and some of it is dangerously exposed. Falling over the safety banister would probably prove fatal. She points to him, and smiles. “You know, it’s kind of some trick of Fate that would bring you here. You, Alex, back from the grave, after I put Lyssa into the grave. You broke out of whatever hellscape your soul was trapped in to come after me one last time, and you took the first outlet you could find.”

I saw this coming. He had a sinking feeling that he knew that Crosomer never would have had the courage to kill his friend, even as far gone as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to kill someone he treated as a brother–as a found family. And he knows she’s trying to bait him, and he tightens his fist. “So why don’t you tell me how Alex died then. Guessing it was you?” Surprisingly, she shakes her head.

“Oh, I can't take credit for this one, even as much as that would be poison in the wound. No, what happened from what I heard later is that Alex beat Crosomer halfway to death after killing most of the rest of his inner circle–well, mostly my guys, because they kept Crosomer in check–and would have put him in the grave.

"Thing is, Alex hesitated and broke down, screaming that he couldn't do it. Those two still cared for each other, even after all the hell they put each other through and burned half the continent. Alex got stabbed in the back when he was distracted by some lowly foot soldier, Crosomer obliterates him then and there, and then…Crosomer finishes the job. Meaning, he tried to fiddle desperately with the Kilnstar’noth afterward in a desperate gambit to save him. Never quite sure what he saw in Alex, but he tried to save him! Futilely,” she adds with a malicious grin.

Well, that's an ignoble way to go. I was disintegrated by a magical experiment, after getting stabbed? Crosomer cared, even at the end. Joey winces visibly. All this time, he'd thought Val had killed him, and it was just some random foot soldier who had gotten instant karma for landing the killing blow on a hero. Val doesn’t bother to pause. “Still, though, that’s old history. You’re here, now. And with limitless potential.”

“How about we just stick to business?” he taps the old, weathered journal that’s now secured in a pocket on his vest. Even though he would like nothing better than to kill this woman himself. No one has ever managed to make him want to kill others until he met this woman, and it feels…wrong. Unnatural.

But he’s also killed at least one person tonight. The man who had leveled a shotgun at his head, and triggered his danger sense at the last second. Killing that man out of reflex–eliminating a deadly threat to himself, and his team–that had been a snap decision he could live with. This? This felt wrong. And she knows it by the way her body coils and she grins at him. “You think you could take me on? You’re carrying a very fancy toy that doesn’t belong to you.”

“Val, seriously, it’s all a fight for you, isn’t it? You don’t have an off switch. Crosomer and King are right about you, you just can’t help yourself, can you? Violence is just this thing you have to surround yourself in constantly, just to feel alive.” He’s not falling for this ruse, It’s clear what her intentions are.

“What if we just fought for the book? I’ll let everyone go, and it’ll be just you and me,” she purrs, and taps that crimson sword strapped to her waist. There’s something wrong in the air when she does, like something seared his soul, and he tries not to react. “I’ll be honest, I expect you’d last thirty seconds. You’re good, probably the best I’ve seen for your age. Maybe a little longer.

“Or, we can go our separate ways. My terms: You withdraw your forces. Take your dead and wounded. You retain a small team. I hand you the book, then you leave. Zero violence.” He’s not going to take a chance taking on this trained killer in any way other than having a home field advantage. “You get what you want, Val. My concern is for the people of Asqualia and cessation of hostilities.”

“Are you absolutely sure you don't want to avenge dear old grandma?” that grin of sharpened teeth is just utterly inhuman, no normal human just grins like that–it’s distinctly creepy. “You could take your shot, right now. I’ll even throw in a free ‘get out of jail’ card. A teleportal pad out of here for your friends.”

“Do you just not get the idea I’m giving you what you want?” He’s finally hit his patience limit, and glances over to Joey, but something is wrong. Joeys’ eyes are struck in fear. He can feel it with a trickle of dread. “Nah. I have other people to think about, other than my own desire to make you a corpse. Especially for the litany of violence you’ve inflicted on the world. I doubt you could ever say the same. Would anyone grieve for you if you died? Would the lackeys stick around out of respect? Or as soon as the last check cleared, they’d move on to better and brighter things?” He points out a soldier who had nodded almost imperceptibly. “Hey asshole, your loyalty is lacking, I saw that!”

Stir the pot more? Alex groans.

If they’re killing each other, they aren’t killing me, he responds back with a silent smile.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

There are more than a few uncomfortable shifts in stance as Valosterla glances at the corners of her vision for anyone having second thoughts. “Lots of people would miss me. No one would miss you.”

"I would. And everyone in this room who's been saved by his quick thinking." It's Joey's turn to take a step forward. "Take this deal and get out of our house, Val. You've done enough harm tonight."

"Oh? Better put your pet on a leash, Rashalda," Vals laughs. "After all, it's where the vermin belong."

New plan. Bury my sword through her heart, kill every merc in the room. That comment pisses him off for some reason he can't put his finger on, and Alex lets out a loud protest. And he hears Joey's less than pleasant comment under her breath.

Drenar if we don’t commit to this, this whole plan could end up getting us killed! Alex’s urgent whisper isn’t lost on Joey either, who coughs loudly in a subtle nudge. “Right, let’s just get this done. Your guys don’t shoot me, my guys don’t shoot you.” He’s also feeling the fatigue going from maintaining now six telekinetic ‘holds’ on those alchemical flashbangs, and it’s starting to sap his strength a bit trying to multitask. He pulls out the journal and hopes that this goes well.

It probably won’t, and they cross the distance. She’s tall–it’s only now that he notices how she seems to tower almost a good twenty to thirty centimeters above him, and just leers at him with those piercing eyes of hers. They’re only two meters away, and she fortunately has her hand off her weapon–as does he. If there’s any small comfort, he knows he can draw faster. “Val, I have one last question for you. Before I hand this over.”

“Oh?” she tilts her head in curiosity and the play of the flash of mana nearby dances light and shadow across her face.

“There’s one thing that has bothered me since King made his introduction a few nights ago. He said that there was a certain someone who ordered a hit on a big target. He didn’t say who made the call, but I think it was you.”

“Really, now?” This catches her attention. “And who was this special target?”

“A Valkyrie.” He leaves the critical part out, and she frowns.

“No one would willingly chase down a Valkyrie without an immense amount of firepower, planning, and overwhelming numbers, even I'm not that bold to get that kind of attention. I barely held my own when I killed a Champion. That scar, that final rebuke she gave me? That ringing sound hasn't ever gone away.” She taps at her chest, presumably where a deadly blade had pierced through. Luminari lets out a sharp, angry chime, and Joey tilts her head--did she hear it, too? “Nothing like having one lung punctured and your body is trying to heal it. Missed the heart, though,” she grins. “But, no. I haven’t killed any Valkyries of late. It has been a long time.”

“Bullshit. I know only you could pull off killing a Valkyrie.” Was King lying after all? But why? She narrows her eyes, and looks confused.

“You seem fixated on this. I can't claim credit for this one, even as much as the sight of a dead Valkyrie with her wings plucked would bring a smile to my face.”

“Really? Six years ago not ringing any bells?!” She has to be lying.

“Come to think of it...Six years ago? It rings a bell.” She glances at her associates for a split second, then back at him, ruby eyes gleaming. “Someone was busy starting fights in public that shouldn’t have been public. I heard a rumor that about sixty mercs were killed in a brutal battle not that far from here. I don’t know who was doing the fighting, or what one of the offending parties did, because the next thing I heard, SAF and the Valkyries were busy sweeping up body parts and tearing up terrain to conceal a massive mage battle. It was so quiet, that even I don’t know the details. Only that everyone involved died. You’re telling me someone else killed a Valkyrie? I owe them some immense respect for the boldness that would entail.”

She’s not boasting about it. She would be completely boasting about it, if she was behind it. This is another mystery unsolved. One Kiera likely is hiding the secret to–something so dangerous, she couldn’t risk telling her kids. Alex. What does this mean?

It means there’s a third party responsible for your mother’s death, or mercs were paid for their silence–Val’s, or someone else's. You live in an era of private military corporations, there could be any number of people looking to kill a Valkyrie. Alex still sounds like grinding teeth. You still need to kill her, Drenar. If you can’t do it for me, do it in the defense of those you care about. She will never stop. She won't stop until you're dead.

Val frowns and gestures to him. “You have your answer. Now, hand over the book.”

“Men first,” he counters.

“I have the position of strength here.” It sounds like a growl more than words.

“Men. First. I keep to my word.” Something is setting his danger sense off, and he’s wondering if it’s more optical camouflage uniforms. He doesn’t see the shimmer, and he can’t feel the deflection of air currents their movement would now reveal. The danger threat is still there. But from where? He can feel a motion just…above him. A soft clink of metal? He dares a glance out of the corner of his eye, but can see nothing. “Val, c’mon, this isn’t amateur hour. A gesture of goodwill goes a long way.”

He knows it when he sees her men all flexing, casually leaning into cover like this is rehearsed, on how this is going to go. Joey confirms it with a single sharp resounding ‘nod’ in that strange connection between them. Val smiles that poisonous smile, and taps that sword hilt. He’s not quite within range to quick draw, but he has other priorities and sends Joey his thoughts.

Looks like she's worn out the subtlety. Disable the immediate threats, the suppressive gunners. Joey, target count of about thirty, expect more to rush in from the bulkhead, make sure Kyle locks it down for as long as he can, before they burn through it. Val takes a small step forward.

“We can do this one of two ways. Painfully. Or brutally. You get to choose.” Instead, Drenar smiles.

“Nah Val, I have to take my third option: unlikely victory.” She laughs at this, and he’s tempted to take a swipe at her right now, but with that many gunmen nearby, he needs to thin their numbers, first. “See, when you confirmed for me that Lyssa Rashalda–the Champion of the Valkyries, my great-grandmother, died by your hand, you did something I never thought you could. You’ve done the one thing you should never do against someone with the drive and the will to fight for what is right.”

“What’s that, exactly?” Gone is the hesitation to kill. Gone is the fear of his friend's safety. There is only justice, for righting old wrongs.

“You’ve created a champion out of your litany of countless victims.” He taps Luminari, and the crystalline sound is almost deafening. Val rubs uneasily at her chest. She's felt the bite of this blade before. "Maybe you have the numbers. Maybe you have the firepower. Maybe your men manage to kill us. But what you can't kill is the spirit of the warriors that came before me. But you are not getting your victory here tonight, Val, because I'll finish the job that the Valkyries started: killing the monsters that plague our world."

She laughs at this mockingly, and points to him. "You? Haha, you couldn't--"

He mentally lets go of his pending trap, and half a dozen alchemical grenades all drop from their hiding spots, onto the floor and the metallic ping of safety latches coming out is audible. Panic ensues, someone prematurely fires by mistake, and Val looks at him, malice incarnate, looming over the imminent battle. Her arcane barrier flares to life with black and violet sparks of rage. “Let's see how well do against someone who can fight back."

“Then prove it. Champion.” Luminari shakes and shudders and they both draw their blades. Dazzling bright light flares the room, deadly traps are triggered, and the room devolves into chaos around them, and the clang of the two mighty weapons resounds louder than all of that.

Let's do this, Alex. For Lyssa.

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

Click here for the next chapter on Patreon!