Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 57 - Testing the limits - Part Two

 

I was still in a somewhat paranoid state of mind after learning of the Perpetuals. So I decided to task Gric with touring Sebet’s fortress to make sure everything complied with the guidelines I had laid out for Sebet’s activities.

 

Gric’s projections positively vibrated with eagerness for the assignment and wasted no time in getting to business interrogating Sebet and her clones.

 

If I understood the context of the threat the Perpetuals represented, stressing over their existence wouldn’t do much good at all. For the time being, Ril’s goals aligned with my own, and if Sebet’s descriptions were accurate I was fairly confident I wouldn’t encounter any others.

 

I spent the rest of the evening with my family and did my best to put Ril and the Perpetuals out of my mind.

 

The twins were growing quickly. Despite having witnessed the children of other Species grow at roughly the same rate, it still came as something of a surprise.

 

My biggest surprise came in the morning as I was preparing to leave and found Pete scrawling his name on the wall. The native language was such that it would have been possible for him to draw his name by accident. However, the letters of Pete’s name were written in the English alphabet.

 

Pete looked incredibly proud of himself and burbled excitedly when he realised I had noticed his achievement.

 

In hindsight, I now recognised his previous attempts at forming the letters in his older scribblings.

 

“This is good?” Lash asked with a bemused smile as I tickled Pete’s chin.

 

“Very!” I replied with a sense of newfound pride, “Pete wrote his name!”

 

“Oh!” Lash looked at the wobbly segment of scrawled letters with renewed interest.

 

“He used the language I grew up with,” I explained and used another piece of chalk to write out a full example of the alphabet, numbers included.

 

“OH!” Recognition flashed in Lash’s eyes and she pulled Pete up into a celebratory hug, “So smart!” She cooed.

 

“Bah!” Suzy exclaimed with an expression of incredulous betrayal.

 

“Your pictures are nice too, Suzy! Oof!” I grunted slightly as I pulled her up into a hug of my own, human-sized muscles straining to accommodate her awkward distribution of weight.

 

“Hee!” Suzy slapped playfully at my sides and very nearly knocked the wind out of me.

 

It was another reminder that the twins needed children their size and strength to play with.

 

Since I could just move myself to the tenth-floor base camp instantaneously, I decided to spend more time with my family instead of arriving early.

 

Arriving at the base camp, I realised that the confrontation with Ril had caused me to forget about the auction I was going to attend. There hadn’t been any items I was personally interested in, so I decided that I would attend another evening.

 

Out of a desire to fight at a level closer to my full potential, I used Lesser Summon to create a generic canine Kobold Spearman. Assuming I had enough time between encounters, I would regenerate mana I wouldn’t otherwise have. Spending mana instead of HP to resist Fatigue, my mana would regenerate slower but I would be in better condition overall.

 

The team was already waiting for me when I arrived and except for Fione, no one seemed to mind that I had arrived later than expected.

 

Jean in particular seemed more relieved than anything else and had probably been wondering if I would show up at all. “Glad you could join us again brother!” He gave my shoulder a companionable pair of slaps before guiding me to a seat at the team’s table, “And who’s this?”

 

“A Lesser Summon for Synergies,” I explained while taking a seat and accepting the extended group invite.

 

Jean looked surprised, “Another Ability of your secret Class, brother?” He asked with respectful curiosity.

 

“No, another magic item,” I replied and then decided to explain the reason for its previous absence, “I visited the markets yesterday.” It wasn’t an actual lie, but I certainly intended for it to be misleading.

 

“Ah!” Jean slapped his knee and grinned after taking his seat, “Your broker must have good connections, brother! I hear only a handful of people can buy the special items outside the auctions!”

 

That was something I hadn’t considered but would arrange later.

 

“It won’t cut into our Exp, will it?” Sarah asked neutrally, “Synergies are good, but I would rather level faster.”

 

“He’s a Summon, they don’t cost nothin',” Tanner answered before anyone had the chance, “We still got a free slot anyway.”

 

“Ah, more than the one actually,” Jean added with a hint of nervousness.

 

“The retinue?” Tanner asked curiously and then nodded, “Right, special Class.”

 

“I don’t mean to take unfair advantage, brother, but would you be open to expanding the group while we have you here?” Jean asked hopefully, “I have spoken with a couple of groups we are on good terms with, and they would be alright with taking the hit to their Exp in exchange for shadowing us as we push for the hills again.”

 

“Safety in numbers and all that,” Horrace nodded approvingly which caused his lightly waxed moustache to wave slightly.

 

“But our Exp will remain the same right?” Sarah insisted.

 

“It should...” Tanner replied, but he didn’t look entirely certain.

 

I sighed and nodded, uncertain whether I wanted to participate, “Those in the retinue will lose half the Exp compared to the primary group, but all Synergies and group-wide passives are shared.”

 

“That is what I have heard as well,” Jean confirmed with a hint of relief.

 

“What about magic items?!” Fione interjected urgently, “How does this retinue thing affect the drop rate?!”

 

“It doesn’t,” I answered flatly.

 

“Wait, what?” Fione looked confused, “What do you mean?”

 

“It doesn’t change the magic item drop rate,” I explained distractedly while trying to decide if staying with the group would be worth my time, “Magic items will continue to drop according to your Takesation setting.”

 

“How are we dividing loot then?” Fione demanded, shifting her focus to Jean with an expression of intense seriousness.

 

“Well...The other group leaders and I discussed it and we think an even split is the only way to go,” Jean explained hurriedly, “With the Exp penalty already, potentially losing out on magic items was just too much...”

 

“Who are we working with?” Sarah asked warily.

 

“No one we have worked with before,” Jean replied neutrally, “But their reps are solid enough and they have the levels...”

 

Tanner scowled slightly, “What’s the catch?”

 

Jean shifted uncomfortably and then sighed, “The groups are both military-”

 

“Aw come on!” Fione slammed her fists down on the table, “Why would you willingly sign us up to work with those control freaks?!”

 

“Tell me we’re getting some kind of consideration for this?” Tanner demanded dryly.

 

“Military aren’t that bad,” Sarah insisted weakly, “So long as we don’t get lumped with a climber or stickler.”

 

Horrace remained silent but seemed inclined to agree with Sarah.

 

The soldiers in question appeared shortly afterwards and brought an abrupt halt to Sarah and Tanner’s audible complaints. Neither of them seemed happy but were unwilling to complain about the military in their presence.

 

“Sergeant Davin and Grant! Good to see you had no trouble finding us in time!” Jean declared with what felt like excessive and strained cheer, “We were just discussing strategy!”

 

“I’m sure...” Davin replied dryly, his cold blue eyes looking over our group with thinly veiled contempt. He had the refined features and tone of voice I had come to associate with the Asrusian aristocracy, but his low rank was something of a surprise.

 

Nepotism was rampant in the ranks of the Asrusian military. Merit would allow commoners to climb the ranks, but the nobility applied a passive pressure that ensured only those commoners with exceptional talent and ability would rise past Lieutenant.

 

Davin was the first noble I had seen with the rank of sergeant and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

 

“Just following orders,” Grant replied, “Commander said to be here, so we’re here.” Perhaps in his mid-thirties, Grant carried himself with a confidence and surety that fit his tall but not an overly bulky frame.

 

Jean smiled and nodded amicably, “Of course.” He glanced at me for a moment and rose from the table, “Our temporary party member has brought an unexpected boon to our arrangement.”

 

“Oh?” Davin did not sound particularly convinced.

 

“Indeed, Tane can form a retinue that will allow both of your groups to share in half of the Exp from our kills,” Jean motioned to me with a wide grin on his face.

 

“Useful-” Grant replied but was cut off before he could elaborate further.

 

“You?!” Davin demanded incredulously, “You have the rank of Underlord?!” He sneered with thinly veiled contempt, “I don’t believe it! He’s clearly lying!”

 

The Summoned Kobold growled and raised its hackles.

 

Without saying a word, I shifted both sergeants groups into my retinue.

 

Grant was the first to notice, his eyes slowly panning left to right.

 

“Got nothing to say?! Eh?!” Davin sneered, “I thought as much!”

 

Jean looked worried and moved to impose himself between Davin and me, “Come now, there’s no call for insults-”

 

“We are already in his retinue,” Grant stated matter of factly.

 

“What?!” Davin demanded, his face palling slightly, “Status!” Sweat began to dampen his brow.

 

“He invited us without asking, you know what that means,” Grant continued in the same stoic tone.

 

Davin spluttered something incomprehensible.

 

“What does it mean?” Jean asked curiously.

 

“He has his Majesty’s personal authority or at least a part of it,” Grant replied, “Meaning he was probably promoted in person and for a specific task.”

 

His comment drew everyone’s attention back to me again.

 

“Of course, asking what that task is will probably earn a place in his Majesty’s special jail...” Grant shifted uncomfortably, “So it would be best not to ask.”

 

It hadn’t been a question but I nodded at Grant anyway. I was quite happy to take the easy excuse not to explain things further. I was already surprised that he knew so much about promotions and my authority.

 

“I...It was all a jape!” Davin insisted in a manic tone, “A joke! Yes! A joke! Ahahahaha!”

 

Leaving Jean to calm things down, I walked away and began checking over my gear. The Summoned Kobold trailed dutifully behind me and helped adjust some of my armour straps. Sergeant Davin’s attitude had irked me and I felt a mounting need to put him in his place.

 

Rather than throttling him, which would require creating a new identity to avoid the potential blowback with the Asrusians, I decided to truly test the limits of what I could do.

 

Kneeling, I pulled out a clump of the long blades of grass and wove them into tiny cords. Emptying the magic arrows from my quiver, I tightly tied a cord behind the head of each arrow. What I was going to attempt was unproven but even if it didn’t work, no one would be the wiser. Unsure if it would be a factor, I tied an additional cord to three arrows and five extra cords to another arrow.

 

Jean and the others joined me shortly after I finished.

 

“Sorry about that, brother,” Jean apologised with what seemed like genuine sincerity, “I didn’t think the bastard would mouth off like that. Ah well, live and learn.”

 

“The look on his face!” Fione crowed happily, “Never knew how much I wanted to see that!”

 

“It would perhaps be best to take recent events as an example?” Horrace suggested optimistically.

 

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Sarah sighed tiredly, “She’s always happiest when watching someone laid low.”

 

“It was pretty funny,” Tanner chuckled and tucked a wad of the sour brown leaves into his lip, “Doubt he will forget any time soon, hehe.”

 

“I don’t doubt it...” Jean sighed, “But we need to put this behind us and focus. I don’t want to lose an arm because you can’t focus!”

 

Fione let out a long reluctant sigh, “Fine, you’re right...”

 

“Good,” Jean nodded appreciatively before turning to face the wider group, “We will take the lead and follow the same path as yesterday while the other groups shadow our flanks.”

 

“Simple enough,” Tanner commented with a grunt.

 

“What are our rules of engagement?” Horrace asked, “Do we assist? Or?...”

 

“Only when there is a clean shot,” Jean replied seriously, “If they need additional assistance they will ask for it.”

 

“Suuuure...” Fione scoffed incredulously and kicked at the dirt dismissively.

 

“We will take the same formation as last time unless you have any objections?” Jean looked expectantly at me.

 

“Fine,” I agreed readily, “But I will use my bow if we spot the enemy at a distance.”

 

“Looking to move in on my turf eh? Hehe,” Tanner chuckled and shouldered his crossbow, “Go ahead, your shoddy aim just makes everyone appreciate me more,” he grinned and gave me a friendly thump on the back.

 

“What about the little furball?” Sarah asked curiously.

 

“He will help keep watch, but don’t expect much in a fight,” I replied casually, “Lesser Summons can be quite weak in combat, but their senses still work and they give Synergies.”

 

“Middle of the group then,” Sarah shrugged indifferently, “At least it’s another pair of eyes to keep a lookout for those Beasts.”

 

After a little more preparation we left the base camp and set out for the distant hills.

 

We passed through the grassland without incident and began slowly making our way up the first hill. We had barely reached the summit when the Kobold growled low in warning.

 

Drawing an arrow and casting Keen Senses, I scanned the surrounding terrain for the threat.

 

The Kobold ran forward like a hunting dog and pointed toward a thicket below the hill.

 

Spotting faint traces of movement thanks to the enhancement from Keen Senses, I aimed and loosed my first arrow. Watching my arrow race toward its target, I began to draw another arrow.

 

The first arrow disappeared into the bushes and a confused and angry roar came from within the thicket.

 

The second arrow disappeared like the first but reappeared moments later as a wounded Carnifex came storming out of the thicket.

 

Concentrating on the cords of fresh grass that were now buried in Beast’s flesh I cast Plant Growth and surged a tenth of my maximum mana into the Spell.

 

The charging Carnifex staggered as blades of grass erupted from its hide around the pair of arrows. It then slowed to crawl and began to gag and wheeze before abruptly collapsing onto the hillside.

 

“What the fuck was in those arrows?!” Fione swore.

 

“It’s not dead yet,” Tanner interjected sternly, but his expression made clear he was incredibly uncomfortable.

 

Seeing no signs of another Carnifex, I cautiously made my way down the hill and drew another arrow.

 

The Carnifex shuddered as I drew closer but otherwise remained immobile. Its eyes glared at me with feral hatred as I drew back the string of my bow and took aim.

 

“For my family,” I muttered quietly, forcing myself to watch as the arrow bore through the Carnifex eye socket and into its brain, killing it.

 

Killing while I was excited, fighting for my life or that of others, was entirely different to killing in cold blood.

 

The Carnifex would have died if I left it alone, but taking its life was a self-imposed test.

 

Modern sensibilities and a sheltered upbringing had left me unprepared for the violence and indifference of this world. I was aware that I had changed since my arrival, but it wasn’t enough.

 

As the Carnifex was claimed by the Auto Loot Contract, a tangled mess of bloody grass and my three arrows were left behind.

 

Returning the arrows to my quiver, I mentally tasked the Kobold with making three new cords.

 

“Are you okay, brother?” Jean asked somewhat nervously while eying the pile of bloody grass.

 

I nodded but said nothing.

 

“I don’t suppose you have any more ammunition like that? Or maybe you could tell me where you got it?” Tanner asked hopefully as he took up a sentry position nearby.

 

“It’s a Spell,” I replied neutrally.

 

“No shit?” Tanner exclaimed in mild surprise before spitting a small stream of brown juice onto the ground, “So what’s the trick?”

 

“It’s the Druid’s Plant Growth Spell,” Jean answered before I had the chance, “Only, I don’t think I have ever seen anyone use it quite like this... From what I have heard, Druids typically try to crush their enemies with roots and branches or stab them to death from the outside...”

 

The idea technically wasn’t mine, it belonged to Qreet. Her unique method of fishing involved casting seeds into the water and infesting the fish from within. I had merely adapted it to a more combat-oriented application.

 

Infesting the Carnifex organs required more mana than I was comfortable with. However, the inefficiency was likely linked to my use of grass instead of a more aggressively compromising plant. I was sure that I would be able to source one later.

 

“Well, it seems more effective than just binding it to the ground,” Tanner added appreciatively.

 

“It doesn’t bother you that he could do the same with your sentry?” Fione scoffed and motioned to Tanner's lower jaw.

 

Tanner seemed to consider it for a few moments and then shrugged, “Druids need living stuff right? So there’s no problem.”

 

Jean withdrew a thick piece of card from a satchel on his belt and used the view afforded by the hill to sketch down some landmarks.

 

We continued toward the next hill and had just begun our ascent when Davin’s group came under attack. Expecting a Carnifex, I was surprised when a cluster of boulders revealed itself to be some kind of stone golem.

 

Without the right weapons, the soldiers were struggling to deal any damage.

 

“That’s another one for the notice board,” Jean muttered tensely.

 

“Are we just going to watch?” Sarah asked indifferently, “We don’t really have the right gear or Abilities, so...”

 

“Our allies do not have that particular luxury either!” Horrace replied urgently, “It looks like I-” His voice caught in his throat as I jogged past him.

 

I had a theory I wanted to test.

 

Gathering mana for another Spell, I cast Shape Stone and directed my will toward the golem’s right arm.

 

The rocks and boulders that formed the misshapen limb began to shudder as cracks spread across its surface.

 

As if able to identify the source of the danger, the golem ignored the soldiers and began lumbering up the hill.

 

I had already spent close to half of my mana but had no real idea how much, if any damage I had dealt to the golem.

 

I decided that Shape Stone wasn’t worth the cost and moved purposefully toward the thicket.

 

I was confident that the others would watch my back, and if they failed, I could always escape through other means.

 

The ground shook under the golem’s immense weight as it noisily clattered and clacked its way across the hillside.

 

Placing myself on the far side of the thicket, I patiently waited for the golem to make its final approach. The closer it came, the more pronounced the cracks in its arm became. Its ponderous weight and jarring movements damaged the limb further with each passing moment.

 

Just as the golem reached the thicket, its damaged right arm fell into pieces, causing the golem to momentarily stagger as it tried to regain its balance.

 

More than happy to take advantage of the opportunity, I cast Plant Growth and pushed my mana through the roots of the small trees. I directed the roots to entangle the golem’s legs and remaining arm. With their growth fuelled by my mana, waves of roots swarmed out of the earth and began to constrict the golem.

 

Individually, the roots were no match for the golem’s sheer size and girth, snapping and tearing as the golem fought to free itself. However, by flooding the trees with mana, I was able to make them grow new roots faster than the golem could damage them. The golem was slowly but surely being dragged and pinned to the ground.

 

Originally twelve feet or so tall and about as wide, the golem struggled against its bindings with single-minded determination.

 

Ignoring its struggle, I raised my axe and brought the rear spike down hard on the rocks that served as the approximation of its head. Ignoring the painful jolt that passed through my fingers, I hammered the spike into its head again and again.

 

A cry of warning rose from one of the other groups but I couldn’t make it out over the ringing in my ears.

 

In stark contrast to the death of the Carnifex, I felt nothing as the Rock Golem died. Its physiology was just too alien to empathise with on any meaningful level.

 

No longer deafened by my attacks on the Rock Golem, I could hear the shouts of the soldiers and the unfamiliar cries of unidentified Beasts on the far side of the hill.

 

From my position down by the thicket, I could see that our group had changed positions and was now facing a new threat.

 

I couldn’t see Sarah and Fione, but Tanner was firing crossbow colts as fast as he could reload and take aim.

 

Jogging around the base of the hill, I came to a halt as I laid eyes on the ongoing melee.

 

Three huge cobra-like serpents were aggressively assaulting the four remaining members of Davin’s group and one of them had a suspiciously large bulge in its coils.

 

Large enough to swallow a man whole, albeit with some difficulty, engaging the serpents in melee would be a challenge.

 

One of the serpents reared up, flared its hood and sprayed a charging soldier with venom.

 

The soldier howled in pain, collapsing to the ground and fumbling at their helmet as acrid smoke rose from his armour.

 

“Acid?” I had expected a conventional venom like an anticoagulant or procoagulant. In hindsight, an outright acid made more sense for a monster. “My bow,” I returned my axe to the hook on my back and held out my hand expectantly.

 

The Summoned Kobold obediently handed over my bow.

 

I was low on mana and had already tried an alternate weaponised Plant Growth Spell, so I opted for something more conventional. Bane, specifically, Bane against Beasts. Curious to see if the Spell’s benefits would pass along to the arrows if I cast it on my bow, I took careful aim and loosed an arrow at the head of the serpent I suspected had swallowed sergeant Davin.

 

Due to its erratic movement, my arrow missed my intended target area. However, the serpent was large enough that it still struck the serpent’s hood.

 

The serpent hissed savagely and recoiled in pain, wildly undulating its coiled body in a way I would not have anticipated.

 

The arrow had very nearly passed through the Serpent’s scaly hood entirely and the steel head and wooden shaft could be seen sticking out of the back.

 

Curious, I aimed at the serpent’s head again, patiently waited for the right moment and then loosed a second arrow.

 

My aim proved true and the arrow struck the serpent’s horned brow. Even though it seemed to be buried right up to the fletching, it was unclear if the attack had done any actual damage.

 

The injured serpent went berserk, whipping its head, body and tail about with reckless abandon, knocking two soldiers prone in the process.

 

“Interesting...” I muttered and prepared for my next attack.

 

With the soldiers keeping the serpents distracted, I was free to take my time and choose my moment.

 

Instead of attacking the same serpent again, I waited for an opportunity to make a critical strike against one of the others.

 

I didn’t have to wait long.

 

The wounded soldier became isolated from the group and one of the giant serpents immediately surged forward to attempt to devour him.

 

My arrow smacked into the ridge above its right eye but was guided downward and through the serpent’s eye socket as the arrow followed the path of least resistance.

 

Just like the other serpent, the second serpent began to wildly thrash about in a frenzy. However, in stark contrast to the first serpent, the second serpent’s thrashing grew visibly weaker with each passing moment.

 

The arrow had disappeared entirely into the serpent’s head, so I suspected that it was currently lodged in the poor Beast’s brain and causing intense haemorrhaging.

 

The final serpent was forced onto the defensive by the four remaining soldiers and already had a multitude of broken crossbow bolts sticking out of its coils. Badly outnumbered, it put up a desperate fight before a bolt from Tanner’s crossbow flew into its open mouth and buried itself in the serpent’s brain.

 

All three of the brain-damaged serpents were culled by the soldiers before the Beasts' organs had the opportunity to shut down on their own. Which was perhaps for the best considering I could not generate additional magic items through Takesation.

 

The sergeant was cut free of the Vilefang’s insides but was already badly burned by its digestive juices. The sergeant had to be magically evacuated along with the other soldier from his group who had been blinded by acid.

 

Operating at reduced strength and in need of leadership, the four remaining soldiers were folded into sergeant Grant’s group.

 

“I think one of those scaly bastards dropped a magic dagger,” Sarah commented neutrally to her sister.

 

“It was probably not special though,” Fione sighed dispiritedly, “And even if it was, I won’t have the stones for it. I already need to save up for that other item from yesterday!”

 

“Something bothering you, brother?” Jean asked quietly as he stepped up beside me.

 

“How did those giant snakes, the Vile Fangs, manage to sneak up on us?” The question had been bugging me and I couldn’t come up with a suitable answer.

 

Jean shrugged, “They probably have a camouflaging Ability I would expect,” he replied.

 

The patterns of the Vilefangs scales had been striking contrasts of bright greens, black and orange, but none of that colouration would matter if they had the means to make themselves magically invisible.

 

“That’s....disconcerting...” I replied with a worried sigh. Even more so since the Kobold hadn’t smelled or heard it coming either.

 

Could you detect a snake by a sense of smell? I wasn’t sure.

 

Cancelling Enhance Senses on myself, I cast the Spell on the Summoned Kobold instead. In hindsight, I should have cast it on the Kobold in the first place. One of the reasons I had Summoned it was to serve as a scout.

 

“This latest floor of the Tyrant’s Labyrinth is certainly living up to expectation, eh?” Jean chuckled with a hint of nervous energy, “The monsters might be the same as those we know, but an increase in size can suddenly throw every existing strategy into chaos!”

 

Technically, I could identify every type of monster on the floor if I wanted to. After all, I had created them. Or rather, I allowed them to be created and exist in this space. The primary reason I hadn’t gone out of my way to identify the dangers through my authority and ownership of the Demi-Plane, was because of the challenge the unknown was meant to provide.

 

The Vilefangs made me uncomfortable but served as a reminder of the dangers presented by my unpreparedness and complacency.

 

Being so large had instilled a sense of undeserved invincibility and supernatural endurance that was liable to get me killed when a genuine threat presented itself. Losing my fear had dulled my ability to anticipate and react to unknown dangers.

 

It had taken less than two days as a human for that fear to return. Despite all the means of immediate escape at my disposal, fighting enemies of such size had reawakened my fear of sudden and violent death.

 

I had noticed how much more attention I was paying to my surroundings compared to before and took it as a sign of positive progress.

 

By midday, we had managed to reach the foot of the impassable mountain range that marked the edge of the floor. Forging a different path back, we passed through a loose forest and lost another soldier to serious injuries after a section of the forest floor collapsed into a Bloodhunter warren.

 

Thankfully, the Carnifex had been too large to hide up in the trees and had been forced to set their ambushes elsewhere.

 

When we arrived back at base camp it was agreed that would be all for the day.

 

The soldiers had taken the worst of it, but Jean’s group was running low on mana.

 

I was somewhat on the fence about rejoining the group but promised I would think it over.

 

A part of me wanted to continue exploring the rest of the floor with them. However, other matters required my attention, and I had a feeling that the group was growing increasingly suspicious of my identity.

 

After returning to Sanctuary and changing back to my true self, I revisited the market to contract a personal broker for magic items.

 

After being relatively ignored for the past couple of days, it felt unnerving to be the absolute centre of attention again. However, I had to admit that it had certain advantages. Since I already had everyone's attention wherever I went, all I had to do was declare what I wanted and anyone related to that request would present themselves.

 

“Majesty!” The thin grey-haired merchant bowed stiffly and clutched tightly at his cane. Whether it was out of fear of myself or his weak back was unclear. The younger old man beside him bowed formally in turn. “Majesty, I would like to volunteer the services of my son, Mathias, to fulfil your need for a broker!” The elderly merchant insisted determinedly while motioning to the old man beside him, “I know your Majesty appreciates those with experience! So your Majesty can rest at ease knowing we have your best interests at heart!”

 

Both men had an emblem on the right sleeve of their coats that I recognised from my previous visit to the market.

 

“You are from the Ebon Wheel merchant company, yes?” I asked curiously.

 

Both men nodded.

 

From what I knew already, the Ebon Wheel merchant company was quite small in comparison to the other companies that were permitted to operate within my Demi-Plane. Very likely, the enterprise was limited to the Shaws’ immediate family members.

 

“What are your qualifications?” It was a question intended to test their character more than anything else. I needed someone I could trust, so I was more interested in an honest answer than an answer that made them look good.

 

“Our company is small-” Mathias began to answer but winced as the tip of his father’s cane pushed down hard on his left foot, “-but we have fostered good relations with our customers and clients-”

 

“Root merchants!” A voice from the crowd called out mockingly.

 

“Mud ploughers!” Called another.

 

“Silence!” I growled in warning and eyed the crowd.

 

As if it had all been rehearsed earlier, the crowd parted and melted away to reveal two suddenly quite terrified-looking merchants.

 

“It is true,” Mathias stated calmly while staring down his detractors, “Ebon Wheel has a long history in dealing in vegetables and conducting trade in the more isolated villages of the kingdom. I fail to see why I should be ashamed of that fact. It is, after all, the calling of a merchant to buy and sell goods to turn a profit and facilitate trade across the continent.”

 

The Shaw family’s detractors remained silent. Which wasn’t particularly surprising given the circumstances.

 

Using my authority, I transported the Shaws and myself out of the city walls to discuss terms and the types of items I would be interested in acquiring.

 

During our exchange, I learned that the smaller merchant companies had been struggling with the transition from the labyrinths currency standard. To put it bluntly, they lacked the assets to facilitate the change to mana stones as currency for internal trade. They were adapting, but it would take time for things to settle into a true balance.

 

After our lengthy discussion, I was left keenly aware that I had been taking several things for granted.

 

I had figured that so long as people's basic needs for food, water, shelter and safety were met, they would be happy.

 

I was wrong.

 

My blatant cronyism had ruffled a great many feathers amongst the rich and poor alike. Of course, any group I was favouring had made a point of avoiding the subject for obvious reasons. Even Gric.

 

The absence of a means to voice said grievances was another problem that needed to be addressed.

 

I had originally intended to form a council from the Faction leaders so I wouldn’t have to listen to fifty different people all voice the same complaints or requests. However, I had gotten somewhat sidetracked and it had slipped my mind.

 

Establishing the council was easy, but I was now quite aware of the fact that some Factions would be better prepared than others. Furthermore, there were a couple of Factions with only a handful of members.

 

After worrying over the issue for the better part of an hour and getting nowhere, I decided to simply found the Faction Council and be done with it. I figured I could always make changes later if I needed to.

 

While reflecting upon my earlier performance in the Labyrinth, I realised that using seeds instead of grass would likely yield far more destructive and efficient results. Assuming I could source a viable species of flora for the task. The prospect of generating additional suffering that otherwise wasn’t strictly necessary was somewhat uncomfortable. However, I forced myself to consider that my priority should not be my enemy’s well-being but my own and that of my family, allies, and subjects.

 

With thoughts of combat on my mind, I changed back into my human disguise and spent the remainder of the day sparring with Ophelia. With both of us benefiting from my Racial Abilities, we were surprisingly quite evenly matched. Ophelia had a considerable skill advantage, but I had significantly higher Strength and Toughness to even things out.

 

Hana had provided us with custom-grown training swords that were capable of clashing full force without splintering. However, despite lacking a cutting edge, Ophelia and I was striking at one another with so much force that we still managed to draw blood through kinetic friction when a slashing blow connected with exposed flesh.

 

As an incentive not to simply soak hits, I went without most of my armour during our sparring. After deciding our next bout would be the last session for the day, Ophelia revealed just how much she had been holding back.

 

In hindsight, I should have realised Ophelia had been going easy on me. She was a battle fanatic and took every opportunity to train. On top of her training regimen, Ophelia also benefited from multiple projections of herself being Summoned for live combat experience.

 

With the assurances I had sworn to before we started, that Ophelia would not be punished for the consequences of our sparring, she held nothing back.

 

Not only did I lose, badly, but I was left with what felt like two broken ribs, a broken finger, and three ragged and surprisingly deep cuts on my upper back and abdomen.

After reassuring Ophelia that she was most definitely not in trouble and that we would spar again tomorrow, I had something of an epiphany. I had been in the process of gathering mana to Summon Wraithe to treat our injuries when the tattoos on my arm caught my eye.

 

Instead of Summoning Wraithe as I had intended, I pressed one of my unbroken fingers against the Ogre tattoo and reverted to my true form.

 

Upon coming to my senses, I was discouraged to find I still felt like hammered shit. However, it took me only a few moments to realise that my finger was no longer broken. It was rather severely swollen, but the bone that had been broken was set. Gingerly probing my ribs, I confirmed that they seemed to be intact as well. While testing my ribs I also noticed that the open gashes on my abdomen were gone.

 

Unable to properly conduct a thorough examination of myself, I wasted no further time in sending for Wraithe.

 

“Remarkable!” Wraithe chittered excitedly, “Minimal scarring, although the skin seems to have been unevenly drawn...” She poked a clawed finger at one of the nearly invisible scars on my abdomen, “Bruising appears to be subsiding?” Wraithe commented and gave a hard prod, “And you have taken no medication? Applied no topical ointment or compress?”

 

“Nothing besides activating the transformation from the contract,” I replied while trying hard not to wince as Wraithe poked at another deep bruise.

 

“Remarkable!” Wraithe repeated.

 

“So I’m not imagining things due to a concussion?” I asked warily. My HP had not been restored by the change, but I had lost the Bleeding Condition, so I was uncertain about what to believe.

 

“And you didn’t Heal him?” Wraithe asked Ophelia as she unceremoniously climbed up my body and began checking my eyes.

 

“No, not yet...” Ophelia replied nervously, “And I had express permission for this!” She added hastily, “Hana is a witness!”

 

Wraithe frowned at her for a moment and then hopped back down to the ground, “Besides the bruises, you appear to have already been treated, my Tyrant,” Wraithe declared with obvious interest, “And you believe the transformation that was responsible?”

 

I nodded and realised that it probably should have been a given considering the Spell the Contract for the transformation was based on. “It’s from one of Sebet’s Spells,” I explained and was surprised when Wraithe demonstrated none of Gric’s telltale signs of annoyance or hostility at the mention of the Devil.

 

“May I ask, which Spell?” Wraithe asked eagerly, “Perhaps we may be able to make lesser artifice for use in emergency triage!”

 

I nodded in agreement, “The Spell is called, Sculpt Flesh,” I replied and realised that I should have come to this conclusion much sooner.

 

Sebet’s life insurance Contracts for my Labyrinth made claims that guaranteed survival. I hadn’t considered how it would accomplish that feat beyond magically delivering Contract holders to a waiting Surgeon.

 

However, as miraculous as the Sculpt Flesh Spell appeared to be, I still didn’t understand why it failed to restore HP like the Surgeon’s Abilities could. It also seemed strange that the bruising and swelling had persisted through the transformation as well.

 

With an ever-increasing number of questions, I decided to address them at their source. I was reasonably confident that even if Sebet didn’t have the answers, she would at least be able to point Wraithe and me in the right direction.

 

After all, Sebet was leveraging the Spell far too heavily not to know what it was capable of.

 

***** Hana - Sanctuary ~ Tim’s Demi-Plane *****

 

Hana stared back at the man-hungry Succubus and scowled disapprovingly. She didn’t like Sebet particularly much to begin with and her opinion of the Devil had not improved with increased exposure.

 

“You don’t like me,” Sebet stated bluntly with a smile, “That’s fine, we don’t need to like one another to work together.”

 

Hana narrowed her eyes slightly and waited to see what the Succubus wanted. Many of Tim’s top lieutenants had been approached by Sebet already, so Hana knew that it had only been a matter of time before it was her turn.

 

“I need your expertise to fulfil a mission of utmost importance entrusted to me by our most glorious Tyrant,” Sebet explained patiently and smiling slightly wider when she noticed she had piqued Hana’s interest. “I require three specially structured organisms for the greatest chances of success-” She was in the process of presenting a handful of seeds of various sizes from her pocket when Hana decided to interrupt her.

 

“What mission?” Hana demanded flatly, irked that the Devil would assume she would just do whatever she asked just by invoking Tim’s title.

 

Sebet took a deliberate step closer, “It would go without saying, but what I am going to tell you is to be shared with no one else,” she stated conspiratorially and held a finger against her lips for silence.

 

Hana felt a sudden pressure build against the periphery of her will and instinctively drew strength from the plants around her. Memories not her own began flooding Hana’s mind and caught her off guard.

 

She was walking across an arid landscape of scraggly bushes and sparse patches of brown grasses. Time accelerated and the surrounding environment changed dramatically, revealing vast fields of green crops and a mighty river that stretched out into the distant horizon.

 

Now travelling by boat slowly up the river, Hana watched as teams of Enslaved rowers below her feet toiled to match the gruelling pace set by cruel-faced men and women who patrolled the space between them. Beatings were severe and carried out without mercy or hesitation.

 

The memory shifted again and Hana found herself near the front of a large crowd. Before her was a raised stage with a large fat man dressed in gold and vibrant coloured silks. Behind the man, dozens of small dishevelled figures stood perfectly still. Corded plaques hung around the figures' necks and bore a writing Hana couldn’t read but somehow understood.

 

They were children, and the plaques denoted their Species, Age, degree of ‘training’, and price.

 

Hana felt an overwhelming sense of revulsion from the memory and couldn’t help but feel the same.

 

The scene changed several times, and each time it showed something strikingly similar. The purchase and sale of living sentient beings.

 

Whoever the Slavers were, they appeared to have no qualms over Enslaving and selling those of even their own kind. In fact, Hana was reasonably confident that close to half of the Slaves she had witnessed shared common features with the ruling humans.

 

Another memory came to the fore and lingered.

 

Hana could do nothing but watch helplessly as a young boy recently bought at auction was dragged away. It was a scene she had now witnessed many times, but it quickly set itself apart as the boy screamed something unintelligible, ran into the path of a Beast-drawn wagon and was crushed beneath the giant hooves of the Beast.

 

When the dust settled, the man who had recently bought the boy rushed out into the street. Only, instead of checking to see if the boy was alright, he gave the boy’s broken bleeding body a series of savage kicks in a rage. He cursed the boy for wasting his month’s wages and promised to take his vengeance on his next purchase.

 

It took Hana several minutes to begin to process what she had seen. First, she tried to deny that the memories had been real. There was every possibility that the Succubus had fabricated the whole thing and was messing with her mind to get what she wanted. However, Hana could feel on a primal level that what she had witnessed was not of Sebet’s making. As she accepted that truth,

 

Hana felt ever-mounting waves of anger and utter hatred toward the Slavers who could abuse the vulnerable with such horrors that suicide was seen as the only means of escape. Hana struggled to keep her anger to herself and prevent it from filtering into the surrounding area.

 

The roots and branches of the nearby trees became warped and twisted, resembling claws and talons.

 

All the while, Sebet continued to watch her with her intense gaze. She had the good sense to have stopped smiling, but Hana still hated Sebet for forcing those memories into her head.

 

Then her anger began to ebb as she realised how cowardly that particular sentiment truly was. Hana felt ashamed of herself for wanting to hide away from what she had seen.

 

The more Hana tried to forget, the more vividly the suffering in the memories came to the foreground of her mind. The bodies that lay discarded by the roadside, the wagons and cold-eyed men and women who collected and stacked those corpses high.

 

Despair threatened to overwhelm her.

 

“So much wanton cruelty and senseless suffering...” Hana choked with tears in her eyes.

 

Sebet nodded coldly, but for just a moment, Hana witnessed a flicker of intense hatred behind the Devil’s eyes. “So. Will you help me?” Sebet asked quietly, “I need a food source that can sustain and replenish the weak. A series of environmental defensive countermeasures that can take the blame for otherwise unexplainable disappearances, and lastly, the means to create a natural barrier to keep unwanted eyes at a significant distance.”

 

Pushing away her tears with her forearm, Hana sensed the approach of her sister and tried to rein in her emotions. As she calmed herself, Hana became aware of an intense source of anger resonating from Sanctuary’s periphery.

 

It took Hana only a fraction of a second to confirm the source of the anger. It was the bloody willow tree Tim had experimented upon days prior. Partially sentient, it seemed to have gained second-hand experiences of the memories Sebet had provided. Reminded of her earlier anger, Hana realised that she was almost certainly to blame.

 

The bloody willow tree was aggressively drawing in mana at an alarming rate. Then, without any warning, it stopped. Moments later, a faint call began to echo through the trees with a similar voice to the bloody willow tree.

 

“I believe you have a volunteer,” Hana whispered and pointed toward the now silent bloody willow tree in the distance, and at the seed demanding involvement in Sebet’s plan.

 

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