Chapter Two Hundred Twenty-Two: 'O, inimical ambassador...'

The tension in Warrenhold was much more noticeable over the next few days. The Rainlords were uneasy with all of these sudden developments, and Hector couldn't blame them. The team they dispatched to Sair was quick to start sending back news, and while it wasn't necessarily bad, it wasn't good, either.

Apparently, the fighting on Sair's eastern border was already incredibly fierce. Iceheart was thankfully still there and supporting the Sandlords' defense of the nation, but on Abolish's side, there were two men causing problems who were called Bloodeye and the Man of Crows.

It was worrisome news, to be sure, but Hector still had a fair amount of confidence in the Sandlords--and the Sunsmith, Abbas Saqqaf, in particular. He'd been the only person to actually witness that man take down the Salesmen of Death, so perhaps it was only natural for no one else to share his opinion on this.

Hector didn't bother trying to convince anyone else. He was still new to this whole "superhuman war" business, so he figured it wasn't really his place to be tossing his inexperienced opinions around, no matter how strongly he felt about that.

However, just because he wasn't worried about Sair being conquered by Abolish didn't mean that he wasn't concerned about the situation there at all. According to their team's reports, the intensity of the fighting there was causing the Vanguard to send more and more resources there, which meant that once this conflict was over, they would probably have an even greater foothold in the region than before.

Assuming Abolish didn't win, that was.

Needless to say, that notion was also troubling the Rainlords immensely. Thanks to this war, their hope of reclaiming their land was beginning to look further away than ever.

And of course, the news from Vantalay hadn't helped anyone's nerves, either.

Two of the Blackburn Triplets captured. What a rotten development.

After hearing about that, there was no way in hell that Hector could have possibly prevented Melchor Blackburn from departing immediately. He abandoned that notion entirely.

But he hadn't allowed Melchor to go alone.

Leo had indeed gone with him, as well as Evangelina Stroud and Diego Redwater.

Hector had been worried about that conversation with Leo, but when Hector explained the situation to him, Leo had agreed almost immediately. It seemed that Ericoros hadn't been exaggerating when he talked about how much the town of Miro meant to both of them.

There were, however, some delays. All of the people making the trip were fugitives in one form or another, so they couldn't just waltz through airport security without any concerns. Leo already had his own fake credentials and passport taken care of, but Roman Fullister had been gracious enough to lend a hand for the others. The Rainlords had a few of their own people who could craft those kinds of things for them--as they had done for the previously deployed teams--but Roman's assistance let them get it done in half the time.

The actual trip to Vantalay was still a problem, though. While the region around Ridgemark wasn't technically a no-fly zone, there were barely any planes going to it. The general sentiment among the Rainlords was that it was too dangerous, so instead, the reinforcement team flew to Palei first, then took a boat the rest of the way.

By now, they should have arrived, but they had yet to report any progress on the liberation of Miro. Hector certainly didn't mind them taking their time. He'd made sure to tell them that it would be ideal if they could somehow manage to free the town without drawing too much attention, and they all seemed to agree with that opinion, even Leo.

But Hector wasn't really expecting that to happen, quite frankly. He was expecting the mission in Vantalay to turn into an absolute shitstorm. He just hoped for a positive overall outcome.

This whole thing was so strange. Being so invested in events that he wasn't even participating in. Events that were taking place thousands of kilometers away.

Sure, on some level, it was nice to not be in imminent danger himself, but he was finding this far more anxiety-inducing. Sending people he cared about into danger was horrifying, even when he was confident that they could handle themselves.

He fucking hated it.

And there was more bad news as well. Harper Norez was no longer in the country. As expected, the man had been recalled by the Vanguard. He hadn't specified where he was being sent to--or perhaps he hadn't been allowed to specify--but Garovel seemed to believe that it was Melmoore.

Harper's reaper, Darsihm, had told them during the Gala that Harper's direct superior officer was one Captain General Frederick. And since that little revelation, Garovel had learned quite a bit more about that person.

Fen Frederick was the man's full name, and he was widely known as the Surgeon Saint. He had a reputation as being something of a miracle worker. Supposedly, he had saved countless lives that were previously believed to have already been lost. Where other doctors failed, the Surgeon Saint somehow found a way.

Or so the claims went.

It seemed pretty weird that such a famous man of medicine would ascend to the third highest rank in the Vanguard, beneath only the Field Marshals and High Commander Sermung himself. And apparently, the guy performed life-saving surgeries all the time, despite all his other responsibilities.

'They say,' Garovel had told him, 'that Frederick always seeks out the bloodiest war zones in the world, not just to put an end to the fighting there, but also to provide topnotch medical care for the people with the most urgent need of it. I've told you before about how I think saints are overrated, but... after all I've heard about this guy, it's hard not to admire him. Even the Rainlords seem to like him, and their love for the Vanguard is at an all-time low, right now.'

Hector could only imagine what a doctor who had studied medicine for two hundred years or more would be capable of. If circumstances were different, Hector might've liked to meet him.

The reason Garovel thought Harper Norez would be sent to Melmoore was because he'd heard that the Surgeon Saint was currently operating there. And if everything else the reaper had heard about Frederick was true, then that meant that Melmoore was one of the deadliest war zones in the world, right now.

Which unfortunately made sense.

That country had been invaded on two different fronts, north and south. Technically, Vantalay was much worse off, as it was fighting four different countries simultaneously, those being Czacoa, Yena Maria, Naos, and Lyste. However, Vantalay had also been the aggressor in that conflict, while Melmoore was simply defending its own borders. Plus, Czacoa, Yena Maria, and Naos were all tiny nations, not much larger than Atreya.

But then again, perhaps it was wrong to judge their military strength by the amount of land they possessed. Garovel mentioned as much. Historically, larger nations held far more power, having access to a much greater pool of resources. But in the modern age, it wasn't always so cut and dry, anymore.

By all accounts, that little country called Czacoa was putting up quite the fight. Everyone seemed to think--given Vantalay's comparative size and first strike advantage--that Czacoa was doomed, but so far, it was apparently holding firm.

But of course, the war had only just begun.

As for Atreya itself, Hector was observing some interesting developments in the situation here. Clearly, the general public was uneasy with so many terrible things going on abroad, but it hadn't slowed the growth of the Darksteel National Bank.

In fact, that unease might've actually been increasing it.

That was what Amelia Carthrace seemed to believe, anyway. In this time of great turmoil, the people were looking for stability wherever they could find it. And many of them were hanging their hopes squarely upon Hector's shoulders.

It was almost becoming a problem of its own, actually, because the Bank had begun to draw attention from Atreya's neighbors.

Amelia showed Hector a news report from Lorent about him and the Darksteel National Bank. It seemed to just be a fluff piece of some kind, expressing vague praise and a bit of confusion, so Hector mostly just wondered why the Madame Carthrace was bothering to show it to him.

But then she showed him another one. And another. And another. And then still one more. They weren't all about him, per se, as some were just about the generally insane circumstances that Atreya had been through in the past year, but Hector did appear in all of the reports at one point or another.

He had no idea why Lorent had taken an interest in him, but he was prepared to write it off as just some kind of strange foreign fad that he lacked the cultural context to fully understand.

He didn't want to ignore it completely, though. Lorent was an important neighbor. It was the country on Atreya's northern border, which meant it was practically on Warrenhold's doorstep. Hell, maybe that had something to do with it. The region around Gray Rock was almost entirely enveloped by Lorent.

Still, that seemed unlikely. Lorent was much larger than Atreya. They probably wouldn't have any lingering attachment to a tiny bit of land that had been independent for three hundred years.

Whatever the reason was, it was fucking weird.

And it certainly didn't get any less weird when he received a call from Queen Helen, telling him that the Lorentian Ambassador wanted to meet with him.

Hector had blinked a few times in disbelief when he heard that.

<"Apparently, you have gotten quite famous there,"> the Queen told him. <"However, I suspect that he does not wish to meet with you merely because of your notoriety.">

"You suspect?" said Hector. "You don't actually know what he wants?"

<"Oh, no, he claims that your fame alone is the reason,"> said Helen. <"I simply do not believe him.">

"Why would he lie about that?" said Hector.

<"Because he does not wish to tell me the truth,"> said the Queen.

Hector's expression flattened a little. "Well, yeah... I meant, like, what would he want to hide from you?"

<"Oh, any number of things. Perhaps he means to make you an offer in hopes of stealing you from Atreya.">

Hector blinked, and his head reared back. Seriously?

<"Or perhaps he hopes to conduct business with you discreetly, behind my back. Or he could simply be trying to plant an idea in your head and use you to help persuade me of something in the future. The possibilities are only limited by one's imagination, Hector.">

He scratched his head. "Uh... okay. Are you sure I should meet with this guy, then? Because this is sounding like nothing but trouble."

<"Yes, it probably will be. However, our relationship with Lorent is vital, now more than ever. This could be an easy way to improve--or to at least gain some insight into what their government is thinking. I have no doubt that the ambassador requested this meeting at someone else's behest.">

Damn. She was really trusting him with some major shit here, wasn't she?

Hector was honored. And also pretty fucking uncomfortable.

"...Alright," he said. As long as Garovel came to the meeting with him, Hector figured he wouldn't screw things up too badly. "When will this meeting take place?"

<"He will be at the royal palace tomorrow.">

"Tomorrow?!"

<"I am aware it is short notice,"> said the Queen. <"I can postpone it, if you prefer, but the sooner, the better. The ambassador seems quite enthused to meet you, but he is also a busy man, much like yourself. It could be quite some time before both of your schedules line up perfectly.">

"Ah..."

<"I understand if you have more important matters to take care of, but I ask that you make time for this, if at all possible.">

And so it was that Hector found himself visiting Bosliat Palace again. The crowd wasn't nearly as crazy as it was during the Gala, which was nice, and yet somehow, he still felt like he was drawing even more attention than before. The Gala had been so busy and full of big name lords from all over the country, but now, it seemed like every single person he passed by paused to stare at him.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Maybe the Bank had something to do with it, too. He hadn't opened it before the Gala, and it had only increased his fame further.

Man.

This was just life now, wasn't it?

In the back of his mind, he'd kind of been thinking that this fame would eventually die down or normalize a little--that fifteen minutes or whatever would be up. He'd been looking forward to it, actually.

But he was starting to realize that this really wasn't going to just go away. Thanks to the Bank, it seemed like his fame within Atreya's borders had reached some kind of critical mass. It was now totally self-sustaining.

Was there a term for being both flattered and horrified at the same time? Mere "embarrassment" didn't seem like it quite captured the depth of what he was feeling, these days.

Well, at least he could relegate his utter confusion on that subject to a background thought process.

And it sure was nice to visit Bosliat again, if for no other reason than to admire the architecture as his designated guide led him down the tall corridors to his meeting.

The Lorentian Ambassador was a man named Edgar Stoutamire, but thanks to the short notice of this meeting, Hector hadn't been able to learn much more about the guy.

When he finally saw the man, Hector couldn't help being a bit surprised. He'd never seen someone quite so... square-shaped.

"Ah," the man said, his flat face about as expressive as a wall. "Lord Goffe. There you are. Thank you for meeting me. I know how busy you must be during these turbulent times."

Hector returned a nod. "Ambassador Stoutamire. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Behind him, the woman who'd guided him through the palace bowed and excused herself silently. Hector might not have even realized she left if not for the Scarf.

"Not as pleased as I am, I'm sure." The surly look on his face didn't match his words, nor did his tone. Maybe he just had one of those faces, though.

But that did strike Hector as a little odd. The man was an ambassador, an official representative of an entire nation. You'd think a person with that kind of job would have a friendlier disposition.

Then again, Hector supposed he was in no position to judge something like that. "Why is it that you requested to meet with me?" he asked.

"Straight to the point, then." Stoutamire adjusted the silvery cuffs on his black-and-red suit. "I am unaccustomed to such earnestness, but I must say, it is a welcome change. My peers often tell me that I am too blunt by a half."

Earnestness? Hector wasn't even sure what he meant.

Stoutamire looked him square in the eye. "I have come here today in hopes of enlisting your help, Lord Goffe."

Hector did not react. He just waited for elaboration.

"I do not know if this is the... 'proper channel' to go through for such a request, but all the same, I hope the unusual circumstances of this meeting have at least made clear the severity of what I am about to say. My... superiors do not wish me to use the word 'desperate' to refer to our situation." The man allowed a pause. "So I will not use it."

"...Why didn't you inform the Queen of this request for aid?" said Hector.

"To be very frank with you," said Stoutamire, "I feared the Queen would blankly refuse us."

Hector allowed himself to frown.

"You are highly valued by your nation," the ambassador went on. "This much is obvious. My concern was that the Queen would flatly tell me no and then never even you inform of this request in this first place. I know this may cause you to think me a duplicitous snake, but the matter is grave enough that I felt I had to appeal to you in person. Please, Lord Goffe, I only ask that you hear me out. Innocent people are dying."

Holy hell. At the start of that little speech, the guy hadn't been emoting much at all, but by the end of it, his passion could be heard in every word. It was still a bit subdued compared to most people, perhaps, but it was there.

The Queen wouldn't be happy to hear most of what the man had just said, Hector figured, but she'd also expected that Stoutamire had been lying to her. What would she want him to do in this situation?

Hmm.

She'd probably want him to do whatever he thought was right, wouldn't she? Reflecting on what she'd told him of this meeting, that was the impression that he was now getting.

Stoutamire seemed to be growing uncomfortable with the protracted silence.

Hector finally sat down in the chair next to him. "What exactly is the problem?"

Stoutamire followed suit and sat down as well. There was no table between them, but the window in the ceiling allowed a solid beam of light to pour into the middle of the chamber where a small table might go. "It is a monster. A savage beast. It has slain over fifty citizens of Lorent in the last six months, and the frequency of the killings has only increased."

A monster? Hector hadn't known what to expect, but that answer still surprised him. As far as he was aware, Lorent was about as peaceful as Atreya.

Well, as peaceful as Atreya used to be.

It therefore seemed strange to him that there would be anything blatantly supernatural in the country. There were probably a few hidden servants hanging out there, sure, but a monster? A real one?

And the government there wanted him to hunt it?

He had a lot of questions, and he was silent for a time as he mulled them over in his mind. Garovel wasn't saying anything, either, which struck Hector as unusual.

Eh, the reaper probably just didn't want to interrupt. Hector had little doubt that Garovel would have plenty to tell him later.

"...You don't have anyone in Lorent who can kill this monster for you?" said Hector.

"It would seem not. Several hunters were previously contracted to kill the beast." The ambassador's stern face became abruptly more so. "None have succeeded."

Well, shit.

"In fact, I am understating it," the man continued. "Not only have none succeeded, but none have even returned. Which is particularly troubling, I feel. One would imagine that the more cowardly among the hunters would have been quick enough to flee and save their own lives, but apparently not. Even merely retrieving their bodies has often proved too difficult. The beast is extremely territorial."

Geez. Hector cocked an eyebrow. "How many hunters have you lost, exactly?"

"Forty-three in total," said Stoutamire. "That is in addition to all of civilians who have been killed."

Hector blinked. "That practically doubles the number of victims."

"Yes, you see, at beginning of this... problem... we did not realize the full extent of the danger, and so a call went out for volunteer hunters. Open to the public." The man shook his head grimly. "I heard it was a festive gathering, at first. Full of confidence and optimism. Until it became a slaughter."

Hector touched his chin as he considered the man's words. "If the monster is territorial, then shouldn't it be relatively simple to avoid more casualties?"

"By closing off its territory to the public, yes," said Stoutamire. "We tried that. It seemed to work for a time, but the damned thing keeps getting around our barricades. Or breaking through them, in some cases."

"Does this creature have a name? And what does it look like?"

"At this point, it has acquired several names. The Beast of Lorent is unfortunately becoming the most popular, I fear. As for its appearance, the rarity of living witnesses makes describing it difficult. However, before you ask: we do indeed have confirmation it is a monster and not... ah, one of your kind."

Hector knew perfectly well what he meant, but he couldn't help wanting to press him a bit on that. "My kind?"

"A human with supernatural abilities," said Stoutamire.

Hmm. Not using the term servant or mentioning reapers. As Hector expected.

"I... hope I have not caused offense," said the ambassador. "That was not my intention."

At that, Hector cracked a slight smile. "You didn't. I appreciate your concern, though. More importantly, how were you able to confirm that it's a monster?"

"A couple witnesses yet live who saw the creature from afar. But primarily, it is satellite imagery that we have to thank." The man reached into a briefcase that had been on the floor this whole time and pulled out a small stack of photographs. He handed them to Hector for inspection.

They weren't the clearest things in the world, but he could make out the gist. One was of a sprawling forest, viewed from above. Another, a small town. Then, a field of some kind.

And at the center of each shot was a dark blot. At first, it didn't really look like much, probably because of the angle, but as Hector compared it against the other objects in the photographs...

It was gigantic.

In the photo of the town, there were numerous buildings--or the remains of them, at least--and this Beast of Lorent, whatever the hell it was, looked comparable in size to most of them.

It made him think of the worms in the Undercrust.

But it couldn't be another one of those. He could make out an occasional limb in some of the shots. And while it did leave some noticeable trails of destruction in its wake, there were no obvious signs of sludge.

Plus, he wasn't even certain that worms could survive on the surface. It might've been too cold up here for them.

'Hmm,' mused Garovel privately as he examined the photos from over Hector's shoulder. 'Yeah. I can see why they think this thing isn't human.'

'Could be some kind of crazy mutation user,' said Hector.

'Or something else,' said Garovel.

That made Hector curious. 'Do you have any guesses?'

'A few. But large monsters on the planet's surface are rare, especially in the more civilized regions of the world like this one. Historically, extremely dangerous creatures were often hunted to extinction by one group of servants or another. In retrospect, it's enough to make modern scientists or environmentalists cry, but it was for everyone's safety. In my view, that is. I'm sure it's difficult for many modern people to relate to the experience of being forced to live in constant fear of horrific monster attacks.'

'I never learned about any of that in school,' said Hector.

'Really? Hmm. Well, in fairness, I'm talking about VERY ancient history, here. Probably aren't too many physical records of this stuff left.'

'Damn. So... this monster REALLY shouldn't be here, then.'

'Pretty much.'

'Where could it have come from?'

'Good question. Let's hear what else the ambassador can tell us.'

Ambassador Stoutamire appeared to be waiting on him to finish his examination of the photographs before saying anything else, so it was up to Hector to revive the conversation.

"...Where did this creature come from?" he asked.

"That, too, is unknown," said the ambassador.

'Figures,' muttered Garovel.

"You don't have any ideas at all?" said Hector. "No theories, even?"

"We do not." Stoutamire shook his head. "Perhaps if we were able to study the creature up close, we could gain some insight into that subject, but as things stand, that is impossible. It is difficult enough to observe from afar. The Beast likes to conceal itself, usually in the forest--of which, Lorent has many."

The forest, huh? Many of the photos did seem to be taken there.

Another question occurred to Hector, one that was perhaps more important than any other he had yet asked. "Have you sent any other hunters like me after it? Ones with supernatural powers?"

For a moment, Stoutamire only looked at him. He had been quite straightforward thus far, but now he seemed to be considering his answer. "...Yes. We have."

"I see." Hector maintained his composure. "And still, none of them returned, you said."

"Yes."

'Well, this just keeps getting better and better,' said Garovel. 'Ask him why he's contacting us instead of Intar. They have loads of servants.'

"Why are you coming to the Atreyan government and not the Intarian one?" said Hector.

Stoutamire frowned. "We did go to them. And they sent help. Three times. After that, they said they could no longer spare the resources to assist us."

'Holy shit,' said Garovel.

"Perhaps they were telling the truth," said Stoutamire. "With this war going on, the Intarians are very wary of invaders. And even if they are not officially involved in any of the conflicts, they may still have their fingers in quite a few of the related pies, so to speak."

'Ask him about the dead Intarians,' said Garovel. 'Who were they and how many were sent?'

"What do you know about the Intarians who were sent to fight the monster?" said Hector. "You said that their government sent help three times, but what does that mean, exactly? Three hunters? Or three groups of hunters?"

The ambassador required a moment to think. "The Intarians were rather protective of their operational details. No doubt, they were afraid of us learning something from them and then being able to increase our own military strength as a result.

"However, I do recall that in the first failed attempt, Intar sent a single hunter. On the second, it was again only one. But on the third, they sent three. I'm afraid their names were kept a secret."

Hmm.

Hector had a question for Garovel, though he knew that the reaper obviously couldn't know the answer. 'Did those servants who were sent actually die? Reapers included? Or does Stoutamire just think that they're dead, because he doesn't know how our powers work?'

'Hard to say,' said Garovel. 'You could ask him, but you'd have to reveal some rather sensitive information about servants in order to do so. I don't think it's worth it.'

'Yeah...'

'But if he doesn't even know their names, then the first and second attempts might've actually been from the same person. Possibly the third as well, just bringing two buddies along.'

"Lord Goffe?" said Stoutamire, having perhaps grown uncomfortable with the silence. "So what do you say? Will you help us?"

He still had another question, though. "Did you say that you sent superpowered hunters who were not from Intar?"

"Ah--yes. Only one. A local man named Frank Bishop. He was something of a hero, though he was notoriously reclusive. Time and again, he was offered a formal position as a protector of the nation, but he never accepted, ostensibly due to concerns over his privacy. His loss was felt by the entire country. Even now, many still hope that he is alive."

'Sounds like he might be,' said Garovel.

Hector thought carefully. He wanted more details, but it seemed like the ambassador wouldn't be able to provide them.

Perhaps he was getting spoiled by the kind of intel that Gina, the Rainlords, and now perhaps even the Gaolanets were able to provide him with. It sure was nice, wasn't it? Knowing shit about the enemy before going into battle.

He still recalled a time when he hadn't had that luxury, and he wondered now if it was about to make a return.

Hmm.

"Please, Lord Goffe," said Ambassador Stoutamire. "The situation is dire. Only three days ago, seven people were killed. That is the highest single-day body count since that doomed gathering of hunters half a year ago. We fear that the creature is growing more bold and trying to expand its territory. Evacuations have already been going on for months, and now it seems they will only increase. People have had to abandon their homes without any idea of when they might be able to return."

Hector sympathized--perhaps a little more than he should've, even. It was like the man was speaking straight into Hector's heart.

He tried his best to remain cold and logical, though. He wanted to ask the ambassador why Lorent was coming to him of all people when there were so many other servants out there who were way more famous than him. Even if Intar had failed, there still plenty of other candidates to ask.

But as he thought about it more, he supposed he already knew the answer. No doubt, it was because Warrenhold was so close to Lorent. Not to mention, many of those super famous warriors out there were now quite busy fighting a war.

Even a few of his own. Leo and Melchor probably would've been able to make short work of this monster. If they were here.

Would he have even wanted them to go, though? Sending them to Vantalay was one thing. That country was far away. If they made a big splash there, there was a comparatively low risk of it getting traced all the way back here to Atreya.

Either way, he supposed it hardly mattered now.

"I need some time to think about this," said Hector.

The ambassador nodded. "Of course. I understand. But please decide soon. The Beast could attack again at any time. I fear the longer we wait, the more innocent people will die."

Hector returned a nod of his own.

However, Hector had just told a lie. What he actually needed was not more time to think. He only needed time to talk to the Queen and the Rainlords.

The truth was, he had already made up his mind.