Chapter 6 - Minister Bubspittle, Intelligence Chief for the Legions
One of the lesser servitors rushes into my office, his mandibles clicking with excitement. “Our spies report that the Grand Kingdom has summoned a new hero!”
I pause in my reading of a report, placing a finger beside the paragraph mark to regain my place later. Using the other hand, I push back my glasses, switching them from near to far focus. Even half-demons like me develop presbyopia.
“When did this occur?” I wave one of my four hands at him, thus giving him my permission to continue.
“Just a few hours ago!” He replies, then bows down, realizing his terrible error. My other staff shake their heads in his direction.
“A few hours have passed, but you only now inform me?”
“The message from our spies only arrived just now.”
“And… your excuse?”
“Legion command asked us to conserve on operating expenses, so…”
“So?”
“They used bat messengers rather than a direct mind link.”
“Because?”
“Lower mana usage.”
“Indeed. Very well. Foolish, but I see that you were attempting to fulfill your directives.”
He bows even more deeply. “My thanks.”
“Oh, you think I show you mercy? Not at all. I will mark this failure in your permanent record. I imagine any hopes you had for advancement are now gone.”
That was a lie. I wouldn’t bother doing any such thing. Too much trouble. He never had a chance to advance anyway.
His head is still touching the floor. “My thanks.”
“Begone. More experienced minds have work to do.”
“By your command!” He scurries away and I rise from my seating pod. The click of my boots across the floor is a rare sound. The other servitors redouble their attention to their books and ledgers. My goal is the viewing room in the orrery next door.
When I arrive, the news of my coming has already flown ahead of me. “Minister Bubspittle, the viewing device is ready!”
“Very well. Target the senses of this new hero. We will see the situation first hand through his eyes.”
“By your command!” The various servitors, despite all their twisted shapes, work quickly and efficiently. As they must. To fail is to die.
In short order, the scrying apparatus is ready and an image resolves in the misty air above. My own advisors approach the device to view the result as well. After all, I may ask their opinion later. Ignorance is no excuse.
At first, all I see is a human throne room. However, there are several anomalies. There is no throne. Instead, there are several holes in the wall. Furthermore, there is no king. Well, there is, but he’s dressed as an executioner. Clearly, our information is out of date.
I hear my scribes and assistants scribbling notes onto their pads. This is important, yes. I should encourage them. Perhaps a reward for the one whose notes are most insightful?
For now, my mind is focused on the more important questions. “The field of view here is strange. The hero’s perspective comes from a low angle. Are we dealing with perceptions of a child?”
None of those listening offer a guess. In other words, the answer is unknown. Too many unknowns! More work for our spies to do. We never get enough information.
One of the lesser servitors approaches to offer me refreshment. I catch the scent of an expensive tea. Normally, I would partake, but now is not the time. He should know that. I take note of the arrangement of his facial organs, then I wave him away.
“Raise the volume! I can’t hear what that king is saying!”
One of the diviners responds by twirling some dials and pushing a lever. Some steam rises on that side of the room.
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Suddenly, the king’s voice comes into hearing range, “Now that we’ve seen what Truck-chan can do, what level is she? Will she grow further?”
So much information in a single sentence. The hero’s name is Truck-chan. She is female. She must be small if they expect further growth. Is she a child, as I suspected? More importantly, we’ve already missed a demonstration of her abilities!
I snap my fingers and point. This causes a wave of fear to pass through the room. Tentacles writhe, beaks snap, quills quiver. But, my point is made. The diviners focus in closer on the king’s face.
His hood hides his features. I can’t even see his mouth clearly! What is he thinking? What sort of man is this king? Is there a reason he wears no shirt? What about that large axe? Oh, right… he has some executioner fetish or something. My opinion of him is falling steadily. Even his voice is soft and weak. Easy prey!
I wait for a moment, but someone from outside the field of view responds, “I don’t know her level. I’ve never asked. I doubt even she knows.”
Hmm… Truck-chan must be quite calm. Her field of vision never changes. Even though there are other speakers, she remains focused on the king. Her head never moves. Her eyes don’t even twitch! Have I even seen her blink? What IS she? Some sort of savant of endurance and tenacity?
The king points to someone else that we can’t see, “You there… uhh… George, right? Can you perform an assessment?”
A magician steps forward into view. He is wearing blue robes with silver stars. He bows to the king and retrieves a large black orb from within his own robes. Oh! A crystal ball? Though, the surface is opaque black. Strange.
Regardless, the king asked for an assessment, did he not? I feel my lips twitch into a grin. We’ll see everything that they do!
Some servile looking human brings a chair to place the orb in front of the hero. Once it is ensconced atop a pillow, the orb shines with a black light. A bit of dark magic in there? The diviner’s robes were blue, but his magic is black?
I snap my fingers again. This proves unnecessary, one of my aides has already noted the discrepancy. From my higher standing position, I can see his written words, “Black magic diviner? Investigate possibility to undermine authority and/or turn him as a new agent.”
Ah! Such satisfaction! Training minions is so wearisome, but then you get results!
In the meantime, the magician has begun drawing a new magic circle. When it is complete, he casts a spell centered upon the black orb. “My liege! The assessment magic is ready! You may ask your questions.”
The king steps forward to peer into the dark orb. “What level is Truck-chan?”
I also wait to hear the answer, but instead of an image within, the magician picks up the black ball and turns it upside down. When he does, I see a distinct number eight emblazoned in a white circle on the top surface. So the hero is level eight?
I find myself smiling. I’m level eleven, and I’m not even a warrior!
However, this proves not to be the answer. The diviner instead stares at the bottom of the sphere, then announces a response. “Truck-chan is level one”.
Now, I can’t help but let loose a laugh of derision. The audience in the throne room reacts much the same. There is some tittering, but all the same, no cry of horror regarding their sad fate. I suppose this Truck-chan must have additional characteristics of note?
Another human steps forward and I draw in my breath. He is dressed like a wizard, but this one is not so simple. Isn’t that a robe of overawing? And where did he get a sash of undeniable professionalism? Those are top tier items! Not even the Legate has such gear! Who is this person? What are our spies doing?
I quiver in terror, but the wizard’s expression and stance is bordering on disrespect to his own king. Perhaps he is a foreign representative? “Level one is all that you should expect. Truck-chan has never slain a monster before. Her targets until now have only been other heroes!”
“Other heroes?” I release an unnecessary exclamation into the room. Perhaps I should have been more circumspect. Who could blame me? What have these foolish humans done? They’ve summoned some sort of unstoppable monster! What sort of beast at level one KILLS heroes? My mind goes quickly through the list of known dangers. A behemoth? A kraken? A void dragon? Some unspeakable horror? What could it possibly be?
No! It’s worse than just that! She’s level one now, but a hero slayer? What will she be once she gains a few levels? I feel my skin prickling in terror. The Legate will NOT be pleased!
From the corner of my eyes, I see several of the lesser servitors sneaking out the doors. What can I do but sneer at them? If they flee so soon, I will waste no further time on their training. Indeed, I’d rather they escape now than when we have to face that thing in battle!
Even so, the assessment is still incomplete. The king raises a finger. “We know her level. What about her career?”
“For correct divination, you must phrase that as a direct question.”
The king sighs loudly, “What career is Truck-chan?”
Again, the black-ball-marked with-an-eight somehow communicates a message which the magician reads aloud. “Reply hazy, ask again later.”
“What does that mean?”
“I suspect it means that Truck-chan hasn’t chosen a career yet.”
“Oh, that makes sense. She’s only level one.”
The magician bows low in response.
The king leans on his axe, and puts his hand up to rub at his chin beneath his hood. Eventually, he seems to reach some conclusion. “Summon the leaders of the adventuring guilds. Truck-chan needs a career!”
“Summon?” says the elderly wizard. There’s an odd ring to his voice.
“Err… no! But, bring them quickly!”
I rub my hands in anticipation. Learning the hero’s career will help us to plan our countermeasures. A warrior is weak to magic. A priest is weak to weapons. An archer has advantages to any and all without shield and armor.
My excitement peaks and then crashes at the same time as the scrying equipment. There are explosions in the back of the room, then the hiss of escaping steam.
“W-w-what happened?” I demand from the technicians.
“Someone sensed our presence and sent an attack back up the line.”
“What is the damage? How long until we are operational?”
I watch as the group examines the machinery. After conferring, one of them approaches to give me the answer, “It can be repaired. A few days. But, if this happens again, the next time may take years. We are nearly out of replacement components.”
I gently wave him away, back to his task. There’s no point in letting loose my rage. A few days is the same as a few years. We will miss critical information!
Now, our only hope is to learn more from our hopeless spies. Otherwise, our first experience will be on the field of battle.