Rex the Royal Raksha [https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/AP1GczM_QhkV_13ydXTb0m9hCoIdy6-41MC0NycCUgjDqCq3bQDDU-TeJ5_qbsJtyNb4ShtDedDb-kU4qzIlyxHi5nWGzj0JqVRG2-tuE43C_UycKok5ImZL7zJ9SnTgMbk1vfTTakGz3zHerE5MV9fNcBTN=w639-h958-s-no-gm?authuser=0]
Ramir Mirimel moved quickly through the crowded streets towards his small but lavish home. He had made sure not to draw too much attention to himself and the funds he was making on the side outside of his role as an AOA administrator. Being only a Crystal Caster with abilities focused on scribing and organization had made it hard for him to move up in the world but he had found a perfect little gig to help fatten his purse.
He had never been interested in fighting monsters and had no qualms about using Monster Seeds to progress his powers. When he discovered the Scarlet Banquet was operating within the city, he found it was the perfect niche for him. Protecting their trail and providing them precious intel while putting Bits in his pocket and gaining both power and pleasure from their Blood rituals. The people were cheaper than Monster Seeds, too.
That all seemed to be coming to an end, though, when he had left the AOA after his shift to visit the cult only to find the building on fire and a swarm of clergy, Adventurers, and Ducal Guards helping retrieve those still living. He knew that if he stuck around he would not be counted among those living for much longer. Those victims they had been planning to trade away would recognize his face.
Ramir walked briskly to his bedroom once he entered his home, quickly attempting to fill the dimensional bag he had just managed to acquire with all of his belongings that would fit. Despite giving the cult plenty of warning, they had still fallen to that group of meddling brats and the powerful people who, for some reason, seemed to support their brash actions.
He needed to get out of the city now before those same powerful people came looking for him. Even if the victims didn’t know exactly who he was, he couldn’t trust his colleagues to not drop names in order to save themselves. Ramir could only hope that they all died before they could talk. Giving him time to get far away from here.
As he exited his bedroom to get more of his treasures, he stopped cold. Noticing a silent pair of visitors had somehow entered his home without his notice. He hadn’t thought to lock the door that he had planned to quickly leave through again, but he also hadn’t thought to look around earlier when he first entered, so he had no idea when they had arrived, only that they were now between him and freedom.
“Hello, Mister Mirimel,” Dazien said from one of the seats in his living room. The arrogant prick was lounging in it like he was the king he often proclaimed to be, and it was his throne. The shiny gemite was almost as delusional as the Ruwena girl he had helped to keep tabs on the man. Unfortunately, this same man had the nasty talent to make others believe his insanity. Luckily, he had never fallen prey to those pretty words.
Still, seeing him here with one of his party members standing behind him like a three-tailed guard dog made him hesitate. He was only Crystal Caste still, and he knew both of these crazy people were Sapphire. The world was often unfair like that. He found himself grumbling to them, “You should all be dead already.”
“Well, it looks like your plans didn’t go quite the way you wanted. Lucky me,” the newest Wayland brat retorted as he leaned back slightly, looking unfazed and downright relaxed, “Even more lucky that you somehow managed to escape capture. I’m sure Knight Thevaris did an amazing job of turning all of your murderous accomplices into ash.”
He licked his dried lips as he glanced towards the exit just beyond the pair, and Dazien casually conjured his sword to block the pathway as he warned, “I wouldn’t try that if I were you, though it won’t matter one way or the other. I have a promise to keep after all, and I am trying very hard to be a man of my word.”
Ramir looked from the door to the sword, then back to the room he had come from. Dazien interrupted his thoughts by giving an ultimatum that he felt to his very core, “Sit down now or die standing.”
To his own surprise, he felt his fear spike up as he complied with the order, his own instincts screaming at him to move. Ramir recognized that whatever ability the young warrior had used, it wasn’t a compulsion. It behaved more like a taunt in that he could have chosen to defy the order, but he also knew that if he hadn’t sat down, he would be dead already.
“See, I’ve started learning from my failures, Mister Mirimel. Sometimes it takes longer than I wish, but eventually, I figure out what I need to do differently,” the far too pretty man said as he lifted his sword up as if to examine it closer, “See, I always thought that a gentle and benevolent king could change the world. Protect the people under his care with diplomatic words and a charming smile.”
A frown appeared on that perfect face as he continued, “But a good king also needs to have a firm hand. A good king needs to have the strength to stand up against the evils that threaten his subjects and put a stop to them. A good king is not just a shield of defense but a sword with resolve.”
Suddenly, the amethyst gemite’s antlers seemed to dissolve and a large creature appeared behind the Sapphire Caster in a shimmer of golden dust. It looked like a giant golden lion with even larger antlers, folded feathered wings, and the long-scaled tail of a dragon. Ramir had never seen a creature like that before, but he felt small and insignificant under the weight of its golden gaze.
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Dazien stood then, walking a few steps to place his free hand on the neck of his familiar that was taller than he was, “This is Rex, my Familiar. Do you know what a Royal Raksha is, Mister Mirimel?”
He shook his head, every instinct in his body warning him not to move.
“They are the most magnificent of creatures,” the barely-Defender continued with slight reverence and affection in his tone, “Kings of every animal kingdom, even our own, I would wager. See, they are an alpha predator, I’ve learned. Do you know what that is, Mister Mirimel?”
Ramir shook his head again, not daring to look away from the trio of predators standing just a few meters away from him. He was struggling to fight back the terror choking him as he tried to think of a way out of this pile of siva dung he’d stepped in.
“It means that nothing hunts them. They are at the top of the food chain. Nobody claims dominion over them. Nobody dares to threaten them,” the Adventurer’s purple eyes zeroed in on him, and he felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine, “But you threatened him. Didn’t you, Mister Mirimel?”
“N-no—” he began, but Dazien interrupted him.
“You threatened to hurt the people he cared about,” the handsome man continued as he moved closer to his own trembling form, “You threatened to hurt my friends. To kill us and eat us.”
Dazien lifted an arm to grab the top of the chair he was sitting in so that their faces were mere inches away as he said with deadly quiet, “You stood by and mocked me after my friend’s Familiar died by your friend’s hand and then sneered as my sister turned to ash.”
“N-no. I— I didn’t kill her,” he stuttered. The mention of his adoptive sister did stir a memory, however… potentially a way out of this terribly unfair situation.
“You did. I know you were the one that warned them we were coming and gave us that fake mission,” he pointed out, “Nobody else knew we were looking, and you made sure to hand deliver that forgery. We wouldn’t have been in those cages in the first place if it hadn’t been for you being a lying, traitorous, blood-drinking cannibal. How many other people have you eaten?”
Then, to his utter bafflement, the gemite lifted up a golden medallion with the sigil of a crow upon it, and he knew in his very soul that it belonged to the Avenger. He should have known that the newest son of that battle-crazed murderous Paladin would follow in his father’s footsteps.
“You and I both know you are guilty of devouring the innocent, and now you will feel the pain you inflicted on your victims.”
Ramir shoved himself away from the man he knew without a doubt was intent on killing him now. It caused the chair he was in to tip and him to fall to the ground, but at least the gemite had chosen to take a step back instead of attack, and he reached into his dimensional bag to pull out one of the treasures he had grabbed.
Dazien just raised an eyebrow at him in confusion as he stood holding the roll of paper between them as though it was an offering. He would have to try and talk his way out with this threat as his only piece of leverage to escape alive.
“What’s that? A portal scroll?” the Defender asked once he seemed to recognize it.
Ramir silently wished it had been a teleportation scroll that could ensure his escape. He let it fall open as he held it, poised to tear it, and said in explanation, “It’s a scroll of [Supernova]... one guess where I managed to get it from.”
The confusion on the gemite’s face was priceless to him as the arrogant man turned to the voxen behind him and probably used that stupid communication ability of his. Ramir inched towards the front door, hoping the threat of collateral would be enough to buy his freedom from the Shiny prick and his pet fox.
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Dazien glanced back to his companion and asked over his communication power, “Please tell me he’s bluffing, and Phoenix wasn’t actually naive enough to—”
“I mean, she did drop some stuff off at the AOA earlier and did give me a scroll of [Supernova] to try out later but she didn’t tell me she made more than one!” Rayna explained as she kept looking from him to Ramir who thought he was being sneaky as he inched towards the exit.
“And you didn’t think to mention to any of us that Phoenix was crafting literal bombs in her room?!” he practically yelled back. How that blasted Wayfarer hadn’t managed to kill herself from that alone… he swore she would be the actual death of him someday if they lived beyond this.
Dazien wasn’t especially worried about dying from the effects of a scroll that must have been Crystal Caste for Ramir to be able to activate it without potentially dying himself. However, he was just as aware of Ramir’s actual threat as the runeforged man must have been considering their Caste difference.
Ramir was trying to trade his life for every other Mundane one in the building and potentially the few next to them. He honestly wasn’t sure if the destructive range would be the same with a scroll but he didn’t want to find out at that moment.
He didn’t have long to decide on whether to accept that trade or not, though, as the cultist kept shuffling towards the door. Silently, he asked Rayna, “Can you safely disarm him? The sigil will only remain if I fulfill the quest as Avenger set forth. Otherwise, I’m fairly certain it will vanish, and we’ll be stuck with either an escaped cannibal or a lengthy trial over his murder.”
“He’s Crystal, and all my cooldowns are up. I can disarm him faster than he can blink,” the bard retorted.
Dazien turned back to try and distract the cultist as he mentally gave the order, “Then please do so now.”
Before he could even finish blinking, Rayna was standing behind the cannibal with two of her three gem-encrusted tails streaked with blood, and both of Ramir’s arms were now separated from his body and falling to the floor, still clutching the untorn scroll.
“Disarm complete!” the Shatter Bard reported, and he couldn’t help slapping a palm against his face.