***Calvin***

The situation of Ming’nai was much the same as it had been the last time they’d visited. Two armies surrounded the agricultural heart of Boles, while a third lined the massive walls, flying the flag of Tzen’s third brother.

The Hapain clan, however, were nowhere to be seen. Probably regrouping since we smashed their home.

Now it was just the three half-brothers staring each other down.

Calvin stared at the armies of the first, second, and third Tzen brother, and all the smaller armies led by their subordinate relatives. All told, there were roughly sixty thousand men surrounding the city and another

“How do they keep them fed?” Jeb wondered aloud

“My sisters have been groomed their entire lives to have valuable, unique skills. One of which is the ability to cry tears that can be mixed with water to provide nuyen, a miracle substance that can grow crops in minutes, or heal a body from lethal wounds in higher concentrations.” Tzen said, staring at the three-way standoff. “They have a pitiable fate, often sold to the highest bidder for the sake of alliances.”

“Very nice, how much?”

Tzen gave him a flat stare, and Calvin tried to keep his smile from peeking through.

“You shouldn’t joke about things that are well within your power to accomplish.”

“So I could buy one of your sisters? If I wanted to?” Calvin asked, jabbing Tzen in the ribs.

“Probably,” the prince sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Think any of them would go for this?” Calvin motioned to himself. His Shining Armor Skill made sure his clothes were perfectly clean and straight, as if they’d just come out of the cleaners and been pressed moments ago.

Calvin’s teeth were brilliant white and hair trimmed neatly. Tzen must not have had a similar Skill, because the Bolesian prince looked like he’d been running for about a week straight.

Which he had.

“Probably not,” Tzen said.

“That’s probably for the best. One princess is a lot to handle already,” Calvin said before a thought occurred to him. “Do let me know if any of them are being abused or anything, though, I could totally Kidn – er – rescue them on your behalf.”

Tzen glanced at him. “Just like my brothers, they’re all half sisters. They were all raised in a secretive environment and kept cloistered away from the outside world. I’ve never spent more than a few minutes in the same room with one of my sisters, let alone long enough to form an attachment.”

“Why does your life suck so much?” Calvin demanded.

“That’s the way it is,” Tzen said with a shrug. “We cannot fight the role we’re born into. Only work within those constraints.”

“Cannot fight the – that is such Guarshit. You could retire to Gadvera right now and open a noodle shop if you wanted to,” Calvin said.

“A noodle shop?”

“You know, ‘cuz you’re Bolesian. You know how to make noodles, right?”

Tzen punched him in the shoulder. The prince must have activated a Skill, because Calvin’s undead flesh felt it, forcing him to rub the bruised meat.

“Ow.”

“Yes, I know how to make noodles.” Tzen said with a sigh. “I learned from my mother.”

Calvin squared his shoulders and brought his mind back to the task at hand:

1. De-escalate the three-way staring contest

2. Get some semblance of leadership set up.

3. Ready them for war against One.

4. Tell Tzen where the superweapon that would legitimize his rule was.

5. Have his CMC’s eat a couple mountains in preparation for wiping One off the face of Marconen.

Calvin thumbed his chin, stymied at task number one.

“Can I ask your advice on something?” Calvin asked, scanning the thousands of soldiers.

“Depends.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but de-escalation isn’t exactly my strong suit. Somehow, through no fault of my own, things seem to get out of hand around me.”

Tzen chuckled and shook his head. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“The last two major conflicts I’ve tried to de-escalate have led to a bloody revolution and a glassed city. So my question is…how would you go about de-escalating…” Calvin gestured to the entire battlefield with a wave of his hand. “This?”

“Like so,” Tzen said, slipping his sword out of his belt and tossing it aside. He glanced at the rest of the army surrounding them. “Stay here.”

Calvin felt his eyebrows soar as the princeling stripped down to his pants and hoisted his own banner before marching down through the center of the no-man’s land between the rival camps.

Topless.

The two armies that had been anxiously watching the newcomers fell into stunned silence as the leader of an opposing faction walked in between them with slow, measured steps.

Calvin could hear a guar flick a pest from its hide all the way across the battlefield.

I mean, I can see how a woman crossing the battlefield topless could have that effect, Calvin thought, rubbing his chin. Why it’s working for him though, I have no idea. Perhaps male chests are a no-no spot in Bolesian culture?

It’s a power move. He’s projecting vulnerability in order to make them lower their guards and de-escalate the situation. Oh right, I couldn’t even perceive this stuff until I was in my thirties. You’ll understand when you’re older.

“So what’s stopping them from straight out killing him?” Calvin asked, watching Tzen march with deliberate steps toward the center of the battlefield.

The fact that they could straight out kill him.

“…How does that work!?” Calvin would definitely kill someone if they pulled that kind of shit and his goal to kill them.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

It’s okay if you don’t get it, our brain doesn’t work like that.

“Fuck,” Calvin muttered, when he saw smaller detachments from each of the armies break away and approach Tzen. “He’s gonna get himself killed.”

They were decidedly still armed. From what Calvin recalled, Tzen’s Skills were not primarily for murdering things, rather they were mostly geared toward Politics and Support.

I gotta get out there! Calvin thought, stripping down to his shirt and detatching his component belt, dropping it next to Tzen’s sword. He kept the grimoire absorbed in his body though. No sense actually going out there unarmed.

***

“Would you mind explaining why your pale friend accompanied you?” Tzen’s eldest brother said, standing at the head of a detachment of what Calvin could only assume were half a dozen Legends. They had a hard bitten look to them, all scars and leather, and they didn’t seem to be affected in the slightest by the ambient Warp swirling around the battlefield.

“He was concerned for my wellbeing,” Tzen shrugged. “I could see why he might have cause for concern.”

Tzen’s second and third brother stood at the front of their own respective groups, each with a handful of Legends as bodyguards. Each of them armed to the teeth with mid-grade artifacts.

Steelbones clubs here, drilling spearhead there, and dozens of talismans hanging from the chests of their sages.

Those old dudes are fingering their talismans like gunslingers. If Tzen weren’t taking the edge off with his tits, there might be blood.

Never underestimate the power of tits, Calvin thought, nodding sagely.

“Brothers, if this war continues we will all die. I came here unarmed that I might have a chance to convince you of the severity of the situation.”

One of the legend’s eyes flashed blue. “Unarmed?” He scoffed. “That boy’s got more knives inside him than a royal kitchen.”

Tzen glanced over at Calvin, expression thunderous.

Calvin shrugged.

“Did you not see the part where I discarded my weapon?”

Calvin frowned. “Are you saying I should’ve left all my weapons back there?” Calvin asked, unable to quite understand why he would want to do that. “But that would’ve left me – Oooh, I get it.”

Calvin frowned. How could actually feeding himself to the enemy help in any way, shape or form? If it wasn’t the appearance of vulnerability, but actual vulnerability…how does that serve anything?

It highlights sincerity, willingness to bring things to a peaceful conclusion, and it also makes people think you’ve got enormous balls. Elliot said in the back of his head. Right now, people think Tzen has bigger balls than you.

It’s a strong tactic, but mostly I feel that it’s a tactic reserved for people who can’t simply force others to comply. You and me? We can make motherfuckers comply.

Hmmm.

“I can run back and put my knives away if you want,” Calvin said, pointing back at their camp with his thumb, where he could hear Ella and Learner’s distant catcalls.

“It’s fine, you’re already here,” Tzen said, turning back to his brothers. “Best not move more than necessary.”

“Your servant speaks with a great deal of informality, prince Chu.” The second brother spoke with a sneer. “It speaks to your low birth.”

Calvin could see Tzen muscling back the urge to apply fist to face. His mental figure suffered a hairline fracture that ran deep, releasing a tiny, delicious smelling amount of Warp into the air. A moment later, the crack began slowly sealing itself up as Tzen got his emotions under control.

Interesting. Tzen had mentioned never mentioned meeting any of his siblings long enough to like them, which pretty much left his mother as his only contact with any kind of family. It made sense he would have a strong attachment to her.

“I have news that’s a great deal more pressing than insulting my mother,” Tzen said, jaw tight.

“I doubt it,” The third brother said, crossing his arms.

“There is a monstrous army bearing down on us from the east,” Tzen said, pointing. “It stretches as far as the eye can see, and it will be upon us within a month. We have to work together to fend it off, or we will die to a man. Not only us, but our entire nation will cease to exist if we can’t set aside this struggle for power.”

“As long as you’re the one in charge, right?” the third brother asked, brow cocked.

Tzen scanned the hard-faced men aligned against him. “You each have the strength of your mother’s clan backing you. If you fail to claim the throne, you will most likely be wed to the bride of a minor clan and spend the rest of your days governing a small section of farmland. It’s not the most terrible thing that could happen to you. I do not have that. I fight because the alternative is death. I think you all know that.”

“If you understand that, then you understand why we can’t so easily turn aside from our goals. We don’t represent our own interests, after all.” The eldest brother said, his expression neutral.

Oh, I get it! Calvin thought as he had a minor epiphany.

Each individual prince was a figurehead of the clan of the queen that had birthed them. it wasn’t so much that the princes were enormous power-hungry dicks…although I’m not discounting it entirely. It was because the clans who owned them had thrown a lot of people and effort into putting themselves above all other clans.

It was about momentum.

These three clans were the biggest remaining in Boles, and they each wanted the biggest slice of the pie. The princes couldn’t exactly tell them what to do, or force them to come to a peaceful conclusion, because they were a result of a movement bigger than themselves, not the cause of it.

Politics tires me and makes my head hurt. Calvin thought, trying to put everything into context.

You and me both man. We are not people people.

Calvin itched his chin, trying to process the information as best he could. It seemed like, in order to compel the princes to work together, the quickest way would be to find a reason for their backers to work together.

What could do that? They all wanted more power and influence, and that meant some of them were going to get the shaft.

Well, stamping out the remains of the Hapain clan and using their territory as bait would be one thing we could offer, but I doubt we could get them to share it. The heirloom weapon for Bolesian Royals is another potential bribe.

By all accounts, simply possessing the weapon lent a certain amount of legitimacy to a claim to the throne.

So we could give one clan the throne and another a land bump, but what could we give the third clan? An alliance by marriage or something? It’s not like we could marry Tzen to one of his own sisters. He doesn’t have any political weight, either that would make that an attractive deal. Calvin shook his head. It probably wouldn’t work, all things considered.

Hmm… Calvin was pondering how to align the clans when he noticed the second prince glaring at him. The man had been giving him the hairy eyeball for a few moments now, and he continued to stare, meeting Calvin’s gaze with his own scowl.

What the heck is this guy trying to do? Intimidate me or something? Calvin thought, raising a brow as the two of them stared at each other while Tzen was making his case in the background. If that was the case, it wasn’t working. It just made Calvin really want to piss him off.

Oh wait, alliance by marriage! I’m technically a noble now, aren’t I, and not related, either. I wonder…

“Hey, number two,” Calvin said, “How much for your – MMPH?”

Tzen whipped around and clapped his hand over Calvin’s mouth before he could utter the word ‘sister.’

“You have all the delicacy of a starving Breth’ner in a slaughterhouse.” Tzen whispered in his ear. “Just because they don’t make the final decisions for their clan does not mean it’s okay to insult them. Understood?”

Calvin nodded, and Tzen took his hand off Calvin’s mouth.

“Even if I could kill them all?” Calvin whispered.

“Especially because you could kill them all. If you escalate things to violence, their deaths are your responsibility.” Tzen whispered back. “Did you want to learn how to solve things peacefully or not?”

“How much for my what?” the second prince asked, still scowling at him.

“How much did your outfit set you back?” Calvin asked. “My wife is something of a fashionista, and that vest it tight.”

“Here,” the second prince said, taking off his overcoat and tossing the expensive silk into the mud in front of Calvin before grinding it into the mud with his heel, ruining it instantly. “Let it not be said Tzen Zai is not generous to those beneath him.”

Calvin’s first instinct was to default back to kidnapping the jerk’s sister, but he swallowed the impulse. His responses had to be more measured.

Stupid diplomacy. I should just kidnap all of them and put them on the frontline.

Except that might not work because they were just figureheads, and didn’t actually influence their clans much. Calvin glanced at the bodyguards watching him like hawks.

And getting past a handful of Legends might be more effort than it’s worth, up to and including getting killed. Karen was living proof that there were still people out there who could likely kill Calvin, given the proper motivation.

In a moment of inspiration, Calvin picked up the ruined coat and slipped it over his shoulders.

Dust and dirt flaked away at a tremendous pace as Calvin’s Shining Armor skill restored the clothes to better-than-new, cleaning it, fixing the minor tears and undoing the water damage.

“Alright, let’s do this diplomacy thing,” He said, folding the now pristine coat and tucking it under his arm. Ella would actually love to get her hands on it.