Smoke rose into the sky as the inner city of Halros burned. Opulent casinos and high-end businesses went up in flames along with the false sense of security that money had given to the aristocracy of the city. The rich-born of Halros watched in horror from the high windows of the Governor's Palace as the people of the outer city tore fought the heavily-armored guards defending the keep's entrance.
The Governor's guards were well-trained and well-equipped. Their polished steel armor shrugged off the rebels' untrained attacks while their blades cut their enemies down in droves. Their coordination made them move as a single organism as they followed the Captain of the Guard's orders.
But where the rebels lacked in training and proficiency, they made up for with numbers and ferocity. Men and women dressed in rags and cheap clothing threw themselves into the blades of the guards without fear for their lives, their faces etched with fury even as they breathed their last breath.
For every dozen dead rebels, the line of guards was forced to move back an inch. The rebels paid a steep cost for every small victory, but they didn't back down, for every death made the flames of rebellion burn all the stronger.
The tipping point finally came when a single guard in the line fell, exposing a gap for the barest of moments. Before another guard could seal the gap, the rebels charged at the breach like sharks drawn to blood. In a matter of minutes, the rebels tore through the guards and slaughtered them with the weapons they were given by their benefactor.
The aristocrats watching from above gasped in fear at the decimation of the guards, but they maintained their calm upon realizing that the rebels couldn't possibly breach the fortified doors of the keep. The Governor's Palace may have been built for luxury, but it was still a palace nonetheless. The fortified doors would be able to withstand anything short of proper siege engines.
But the high-born had underestimated the common people once again, just like they had for decades.
A large man in a blacksmith's apron went to the front of the large crowd and called over an old man who seemed to be a carpenter judging from the toolbelt he wore. His expert eyes assessed the palace doors and gave his analysis to the blacksmith.
With a bark, the blacksmith shouted orders at the crowd at his back, and soon, stoves, furnaces, and heaters were brought forth. The aristocracy watched in disdain as the rebels carried all sorts of devices and implements in front of the palace doors, especially when they realized that all of the devices were looted from the mansions and high-end businesses.
Then the blacksmith pried open a stove with a crowbar and inserted his hand into the gap, pulling back moments later to reveal a fiery-colored crystal in his hand. It was a mana crystal with a fire affinity.
Grim realization dawned on the aristocrats once they realized what the rebels planned to do. All of the devices they brought to the front were magical artifacts that involved heating and contained fire mana crystals. Fire mana crystals were explosive, and the rebels intended to use them to blast open the palace doors.
The aristocrats fell into panic as the rebels continued prying fire mana crystals from the magical artifacts. Almost everyone in the inner city used magical artifacts for their daily comfort because they could afford them, and most of them involved fire mana crystals. The rebels would soon have dozens, maybe hundreds of fire mana crystals to blow the palace doors off their hinges.
The aristocrats heard the blacksmith laugh and they knew why. The things that the rich people of Halros used to flaunt their riches and live their lives in luxury were now going to lead to their downfall.
“Someone do something!” one of the nobles cried in panic.
As if to answer his cries, guards emerged from balconies and started firing at the huge crowd of rebels, killing dozens in the first volley.
The rebels shouted in defiance and some started climbing the keep's walls, using the decorative ridges as their footholds. Many fell to arrows and dozens more from losing their grips, but the rebels never wavered and climbed on. None of them ever reached the balconies from where the archers were positioned, but their attempts were sufficient to give the others enough time to finish extracting the fire mana crystals and placing them at the palace doors' hinges.
The blacksmith ran to the front and slammed the fire mana crystal in his hand with his hammer. Fire flared out from the crystal's cracks and the blacksmith threw it at the pile of mana crystals waiting by the palace doors before bellowing “DOWN WITH THE TYRANTS!”
The mana crystal that the blacksmith threw exploded, triggering a chain reaction in the pile that resulted in a powerful explosion that blew off the palace door's hinges. The doors groaned before falling with finality.
“Into the palace!” the blacksmith roared and led the charge of the rebels.
The nobles on the upper floors felt a chill go down their spines when a nearby guard shouted “The rebels have breached the palace!”
For the first time in their lives, the nobles and aristocrats got off their high horses and helped the remaining guards to barricade the doors of the large hall they were in. The large tables that were used to hold extravagant dishes during balls and parties were now their last line of defense against the furious mob.
They proved as flimsy as the nobles' illusion of invulnerability brought by their riches.
The rebels broke into the hall and slaughtered the remaining guards with no mercy. The terrified nobles they rounded into the center of the room, their eyes filled with hatred as they stared at the cowering men and women dressed in clothes worth more than what they made in a year.
An old man was soon brought into the hall by the blacksmith himself. The old man was dressed as richly as the nobles and shouted indignantly as the blacksmith threw him in with the others.
“You will be punished for this!” the old man shouted. “Do you know what the king will do once he learns of your treason?! Each and every one of you will hang in the gallows!”
“All of us have been standing in the gallows all our lives, Mr. Governor,” the blacksmith said levelly as he gestured to his fellow rebels. “We were all born with ropes already tied around our necks while you and your kind served as our executioners who decided whether we lived or died. We do not fear the gallows.”
“That's what everyone says before they find themselves standing in one,” the Governor sneered.
“Then you can share with me your thoughts about it when you eventually find yourself with a rope around your neck and a crowd in front of you cheering for your death,” the blacksmith said.
“W-What do you mean?” the Governor stuttered. “I am a noble! I am your prisoner of war and I deserve proper treatment!”
“You'll get the treatment you deserve, all right,” a kitchen lady spat nearby.
“Tomorrow!” the blacksmith announced to the room. “We shall have a festivity, one that celebrates the downfall of our oppressors! Tomorrow, they will hang from the gallows and we shall liberate ourselves from their tyranny!”
The Governor and the other nobles and aristocrats felt the blood drain from their faces as the room filled with the hoots and cheers of the rebels screaming for their blood.
●●●
When I came to, I found myself in a dark space that jostled and moved in a steady rhythm. My fabric sense returned a moment later and I learned that I was still riding inside Mr. Marion. Taloress and Squeaky were nearby, and along with Mr. Marion, they immediately sensed my awakening.
*Master, you're awake!* Taloress exclaimed happily with a mix of relief as she strode up beside Mr. Marion with Squeaky sitting on her shoulder. My little rat puppet gave enthusiastic squeaks in greeting.
*Taloress, you're back. How long was I out?* I asked groggily. My head still pounded with a light headache, my throat was parched, and my stomach grumbled unhappily, but I was fine overall.
*You were asleep for half a day, Master,* Mr. Marion said. *It is now the morning of the following day.*
*That long?* I groaned before remembering the events of yesterday. With a nervous sigh, I looked through Mr. Marion's eyes and shifted his head to Kazimir and Samantia who were carrying Belka's stretcher. My breath caught at seeing Belka's still form, but when I saw the slow but steady rising and falling of her chest, I released a heavy sigh of relief. *She's alive. She's alive.*
*Yes, Master,* Mr. Marion said, but I detected hesitance in his voice.
*What is it?* I asked.
*Mistress Belka has not awoken since yesterday,* Mr. Marion said gravely. *While you were incapacitated, her heartbeat had stopped several times and the male Night Warden had to push on her chest as you taught him to. The female Night Warden also said Mistress Belka has a severe lack of blood and has probably gone to a coma that she'll never wake up from, but nobody knows for sure.*
*Samantia's not a doctor. She doesn't know what she's talking about,* I mumbled angrily, but I wasn't a doctor either. I had no idea what was going to happen to Belka from now on.
My attention was dragged off Belka when I realized that we had another member in our group.
*What is Kane doing here traveling along with us?* I asked incredulously as I stared at the small man walking beside the Night Wardens with a tired grimace. He would look at Taloress from time to time and utter an ‘eek’ whenever she stared back.
*About that…* Taloress said sheepishly. *Our mission was mostly successful. Because of me, of course. But there was a hitch because of the little man's oversight. The mission is not yet complete because of the little man. It was all the little man's fault.*
*I get it, it's not your fault. Just get on with it,* I sighed.
*A gang boss was absent from the meeting and so we were not able to kill him,* Taloress said. *The little man doesn't want to stay in the city in case the last gang boss wants to kill him, so he came with us.*
*You say ‘him.’ I'm assuming you know who the last target is?* I asked.
*Yes, Master. The little man knows the last target's identity.*
*Then it's alright. We can get him later,* I said tiredly. *It's not like we'd be going back to Halros anytime soon.*
*Then how about Clip and Clop?* Taloress asked.
I sighed as I remembered my gluttonous horses. *Fine, I guess we'll have to come back soon. I left my wagon as well, and I can't just let anyone steal them. But all of those are plans for another day. For now, let's just get home.*
The following days of travel were stressful. During that time, I took over the task of taking care of Belka and gave her every bit of my attention. Twice, her heart stopped beating and I panicked like a madman while giving chest compressions. It was only thanks to her augmenter's constitution that her heart always restarted to push on and keep her alive.
Our trip through the Wild Woods had been slower without our wagons, but it was more peaceful. With no more reason to hide my puppets' abilities, I allowed Taloress to rampage without restraint. Any monster unfortunate enough to be within my fabric sense's radius was slaughtered without mercy, their flesh serving as our food and their deaths allowing our group to travel in peace.
A full week had passed since we left Halros when we finally came onto the dirt road that led to Wildpost's gates. Throughout that time, I had been solely focused on Belka's well-being, tuning out my own companions' voices. They tried talking to me, of course, but I often ignored them and treated their voices as a constant background noise. Which was why when a new but familiar voice made itself heard on the seventh day, I was woken from my reverie and I looked away from Belka's sleeping face for the first time in the last few hours.
“Mr. Marion!” the voice cried. I looked ahead and saw a familiar young woman running toward us, and behind her, I could see the new sturdy walls of Wildpost.
“Selise?” I asked dumbly. I was a bit sleep-deprived from keeping my full attention on Belka's condition day and night, so it took me a few more moments to realize that the young huntress came with a group following behind her.
“By the Holy Mother, what happened to her?” Dalton exclaimed when he approached us. Belka's second-in-command quickly went over to her side and placed two fingers on her neck to feel a pulse before sighing in relief. He then shouted at some of the hunters that followed him. “Get her to the infirmary! It's alright, Mr. Marion. We'll take care of her from here.”
I nodded dumbly as I forced myself to let go of Belka. Dalton must've sensed that I wasn't in the mood to be interrogated, and so he focused his attention on Kane and the Night Wardens to ask for everything that happened in Halros.
“Mr. Marion, are you alright?” Selise asked beside me. I jerked a bit, forgetting that she was still there.
“Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine,” I said tiredly. “Things had just gotten a bit out of hand.”
Selise didn't look convinced by my words. “Is Aunt Belka going to be alright? Please tell me she'll be alright.”
“She's…”
“Why don't you go with your fellow hunters and see Belka for yourself, Selise?” an aged voice interrupted. Bran, who had been part of the group to greet our return, nodded at the young girl.
“Fine…” Selise muttered. Without another word, she took Taloress' hand in hers and they both walked towards the village.
There was a moment of silence as Bran and I stared at each other. He was the first to speak. “Whoever did that to Belka, what happened to them?”
“I killed him,” I answered.
Bran exhaled deeply as he closed his eyes. I initially thought that he didn't care much for Belka's condition based on his calm expression, but one look at his tightly-clenched fists that trembled from his hidden rage told me otherwise. “Good. I am a bit disappointed that I will not be able to have my own revenge on the bastard, but there's no sense in dwelling on dead men. Come, Mr. Marion. I know you're worried about Belka's health, as we all are, but I have plenty of things to tell you, events that have transpired in the village while you were away that are of great importance to you.”
“Me too,” I said as slowly walked into the village. “I may have done some not-so-nice things in Halros.”
“I presume you've gotten the ire of the gangs?” Bran asked curiously but without worry.
“Not exactly,” I said. “I couldn't earn anyone's ire if those that I could earn it from are already dead, after all. The gangs of Halros are gone.”
For the first time since I've known him, Bran gave me a look of utter surprise. His mouth fell open and his eyebrows rose as he sputtered. “W-What? How?”
“It's quite a bit of a long story,” I said. “Why don't we start with how I've been hiding as a rogue Ascendant all this time?”
The Chief's eyes couldn't have gone any wider after my revelation. A small part of me abhorred the act of revealing one of my deepest secrets to Bran, but the future was looking bleak and uncertain for me. Powerful people would be gunning for me soon and I needed every ally I could get, even if the said ally was just a simple village Chief.
“Why don't we go to my house first and get our stories straight there,” Bran said with a contemplative look as he led the way.
Our walk through the village was quiet, with neither Bran nor I talking. But it didn't take me long to realize that the village *itself* was quiet. No children were playing in the streets or neighbors shouting at each other. In the village square, the shops were closed and no aunties were shopping around. The only people around were roving squads of hunters patrolling the streets. I could feel the people with my fabric sense, of course, but they all stayed inside their houses. I remembered Rella's plan to take over Wildpost and I surmised that a curfew was in effect.
Once we arrived at Bran's house, he prepared some tea and we sat down in his living room.
“How about you tell me your side of the story first?” Bran said as he sipped his tea. “What happened in Halros?”
I proceeded to tell the Chief the events that transpired during our visit to Halros. I told him of the deplorable slums of the city, how I found out about Rella's duplicity, the betrayal, the Awakening, my meeting with Esta, Emily's death, and the last attack that led to Belka's state.
At first, I had been stating events with as much clarity as I could, but by the end, I was babbling at Bran as I recalled everything that happened. The story became a jumbled mess and in the confusion, I unconsciously included my shame and regret. If I hadn't been so stupid as to establish a company in Halros despite all the red flags, none of this wouldn't have happened. If I ignored my pride and made my products look like normal clothes, I wouldn't have caught Rella's attention. If I hadn't suggested that Emily come with us to Halros, she would still be alive and Belka wouldn't be fighting for her life right now.
Bran listened quietly, and by the time I was done, he already finished his third cup of tea while mine remained untouched.
“That… is a lot,” Bran said slowly. “I understand your grief, Mr. Marion, and I am disappointed that everything turned out this way as well.”
“I'm sorry, Bran,” I said. “If I hadn't come to this village in the first place, none of this would have happened.”
Bran sighed. “I'm going to be honest, Mr. Marion. I thought the same as well. If you hadn't come, Emily would be alive and Belka would be in the training yard shouting at her students. The village wouldn't have been threatened by Rella as well.”
I sank in my seat as I felt shame burn my face.
“But,” Bran added. “The same could be said for me. I was the one who accepted your arrival despite the lack of information regarding your identity. I knew of the risks yet still allowed you to join our village. The blame rests on you as much as it rests on me. Instead, why don't we consider what could have happened if you *didn't* come to Wildpost? If you weren't there during the monster attack with the troll, there would have been even more casualties. And I already told you of the increasing number of monsters in the Wild Woods, yet the past weeks had been quiet. I then remembered that your products were made of monster materials, which must mean you must have been culling monsters left and right to produce the large number of clothes you've been selling. You don't know how many hunters' lives you saved by culling monsters in the forest. One less monster in the Wild Woods means one less monster my hunters have to face.”
I stared at Bran with surprise. I didn't realize that I was helping indirectly. It made me feel a bit better, but the weight of regret was too heavy.
“I know that everything I said wouldn't make you feel much better,” Bran said. “But if you feel that bad, then just make up for it with your future actions. Everybody does something that they eventually regret, but that doesn't mean they'll have to live with their mistakes forever.”
“Are you saying I should atone, then?”
“I'm telling you to live however you want,” Bran said. “Nobody can tell you how you should live your life, Mr. Marion. You can live without care for the consequences of your actions, or you can live while taking responsibility for your actions. Either way, nobody can tell you to do otherwise with you being a powerful Ascendant and all,” Bran chuckled.
“Yeah,” I muttered. His words made me realize that I haven't been thinking my actions through enough. I always considered the primary consequences of everything I do, but how about the not-so-obvious ones that would rear their ugly heads farther down the road? A good example would be my coming to Wildpost. At the time, I only thought of hiding in a remote village to keep my Authority a secret, but now that I was found out as an Ascendant, what would happen to the village if my pursuers tracked me here? They would be suffering because of my actions.
“Why don't we put this topic behind us for the moment and focus on something else,” Bran said. “You said earlier that you wiped out all the gang bosses in Halros so you could gather power and influence in the city with them gone.”
“I actually only killed those that belonged to this ‘Fang's’ faction,” I said. “There should be other bosses left that are affiliated with the Hoods, as well as the last gang boss that belonged to Fang's faction that I failed to kill. But they shouldn't be a problem when I return since they're currently in disarray.”
Bran tutted at me as he refilled his cup for the third time. The old man *really* loved tea. “If you think they won't be a problem, then you're sorely mistaken. The gangs of Halros are like cockroaches. As long as you don't wipe them out completely, they'll keep coming back. You might have killed their bosses, but a new one would pop up from their surviving members after a brief power struggle. By the time you return to Halros, there would be new gangs running around.”
“Then should I abandon my plan to gather power in Halros?” I asked dejectedly. Even if I didn't like the idea of secretly gathering influence like a villain, it was the only thing I knew of that could help me weather the storm that would soon arrive.
“Your plan is difficult,” Bran said. “But it is by no means impossible. I can help you with it.”
I chuckled at the Chief's words. “You? Not to offend you or anything, but I don't think a village Chief can help me usurp the criminal underworld in Halros and take their power for my own.”
Instead of being offended, Bran gave me the largest smile I've ever seen from him. “Wanna bet?”
●●●
**Two days after Brogen's departure from Halros**
Esta grimly watched the proceedings on the city square from a secluded spot. In the middle of the square loomed the gallows, upon which stood five nobles still dressed in their rich but filthy clothing. Their hands and ankles were bound by chains and their mouths were gagged, silencing their cries and pleas for help. People who were condemned to the noose weren't supposed to be gagged to give them some semblance of dignity in their deaths, but the executioner had gotten tired of listening to their petulant cries for hours.
When the nobles were noosed, the executioner turned the lever and the trapdoor beneath their feet opened. The snap of the ropes growing taut served as the nobles' death knell which was followed by the bloodthirsty cheers of the large audience. The cheers increased in volume when they saw the unfortunate nobles whose necks didn't snap. They kicked and struggled as they suffocated, their faces turning purple. When they finally stopped kicking, the crowd cheered once again.
Like clockwork, men approached the gallows and cut the ropes to retrieve the bodies before piling them on a cart waiting beside the gallows, which was already close to full. They closed the trapdoors, replaced the ropes, and signaled for the next batch of nobles to be executed.
Esta felt sick as she watched the executions, especially when she was the one who made this happen. This was inevitable, she knew, and the King knew as well, but that didn't ease her guilt. You could only whip a dog so much before it goes rabid and bites back, and the people of Halros had gone rabid a long time ago. The nobles tried to cage them with their power of wealth, but it wouldn't have lasted forever. Esta had simply caused the rebellion to happen sooner so that she and the King could reap the benefits from it.
And reap the benefits, they did. The Hoods had lost their seat of power, several nobles from Duke Mulvahil's faction had been executed, and the King now has a chance to install a noble from his own faction to govern over the vacant seat of Halros. The only thing left to do was to suppress the rebellion and make sure that the new Governor wouldn't push the people past the tipping point again.
But as much as she wanted to start suppressing the rebellion that she herself had started and begin moving the King's plans forward, an extraneous factor in the form of a rogue Ascendant had muddied up the playing field. The game initially consisted of the King's faction against Duke Mulvahil and his cronies, but the presence of a rogue Ascendant would completely flip the board and mess with everyone's pieces once Esta reported it. The entire continent's scrutiny would fall on Edria and plans and schemes months in the making would be undone, no matter if it was from the King's faction or Duke Mulvahil's. *Unless we influence the events to our favor,* Esta thought.
A new plan began to form in her mind. If it was successful, the King would be able to gain a powerful ally as well as prevent the kingdom from going to war. And if things went well, they would even be able to uproot Duke Mulvahil's faction from the kingdom.
The executions were suddenly interrupted as a group of young boys entered the city square and started shouting at the top of their lungs. At first, the noise in the square drowned out their voices. But the crowd slowly quietened as the young boys repeated their announcements and spread their message.
Esta leaned forward to listen in. When the entire city square finally went silent to listen, the boys repeated their announcement one last time, their words mocking Esta's hope for a better and more peaceful Edria.
“Hear ye, hear ye!” a boy cried. “The Kingdom of Edria has declared war against Ocrana! Our armies have begun their march in a mighty spring offensive to reclaim our lost homeland and become mighty once more!”
