Chapter 27
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19 Tagsibol, 891 ED

Buwan, 14:22

Milagre, Empire of Tyrman

 

The guards moved quickly toward us, retrieving thick leather cuffs from their belts. The only slight hesitation came when a man in simple blue robes, presumably a priest, interrupted their restraint of me, pointing out that I was severely wounded. The man hurried over and dropped to his knees. The other Royal Guards scanned me quickly for signs of a weapon, but of course, found nothing.

“Are you able to walk on your own?” The priest asked me, looking over the two wounds I’d sustained in the fight. “Hold still, and I’ll heal those up.”

 

You have been healed!

16 Health Restored

(25/40 HP)

 

Strength returned to my body quickly, allowing me to stand a little more easily. Once the fight was clearly over, the shock, not to mention the exhaustion from my injuries, had made my legs very weak. I quietly thanked the priest, making sure to keep my hands at my sides so as not to convey any kind of threat. The priest nodded his satisfaction, convinced that I wasn’t about to drop dead under his watch. Then he moved away to check on Gogo and the man he’d been fighting. The guards, once he was away, moved forward with the cuffs.

“Wait!” A voice called, and we all looked around, surprised to find even a single voice in the area. The merchant that had sold me my armor was visible again, having stepped out of his hiding spot. “You can’t arrest him! He was attacked!”

The guard about to restrain me hesitated, then looked back at his Sergeant. The leader frowned and stepped closer toward the merchant. “You’re sure of this? You witnessed the fact that he was attacked first?”

The merchant nodded emphatically. “It is the truth, sir. An arrow came out of nowhere and hit him in the shoulder.”

The Sergeant turned his head to me, and I could only nod as well, in agreement. Then another of the merchants came out of their cover and agreed too. “It’s the truth, Sergeant. The young man was just defending himself.”

The Sergeant let out a long sigh that ruffled his mustache. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he gave the guard near me a curt gesture. The guard stepped back, returning the cuffs to his belt with a quiet apology in my direction. But the guards near Gogo continued with their work, restraining him and the enemy he’d defeated. I stepped forward hurriedly.

“He’s my friend,” I said, “He was just defending me.”

The sergeant didn’t seem to hear what I’d said and was directing his men to grab the two of them. Our foe was dragged up to a standing position, and he and Gogo were marched forward at a brisk pace. Worried that the sergeant had missed my words, I stepped forward to block their path.

“Sergeant,” I said, pointing clearly at Gogo so there could be no mistake, “This is my friend. He wasn’t one of the ones that attacked me.”

Gogo glanced between the Sergeant and me, his face slightly perplexed. Like me, he seemed to be wondering why there was no reply from the guards around us. Instead, he was stepping forward to speak to the enemy.

“Part of the guild, are ya?” He asked, glancing down at the silver pin in the man’s armor. “Not too bright an idea to attack in the middle of the day, was it?”

The man said nothing in reply but continued to look between the Sergeant and Gogo. The sergeant didn’t seem to expect an answer, however, and turned away. “Oh well, I’m sure someone from your guild will pay the fine before the day’s over. It’s obvious you’re not a grunt.

I was starting to get an inkling of what was going on now, and with the understanding came a flare of annoyance. I stepped forward again, this time deliberately placing myself in front of the Guard’s path, and opened my mouth to speak once more. But before I could, the sergeant bellowed at his men.

“Bring the thief and the beast! We’re putting them in the barracks!”

Beast? I felt the annoyance quickly turn to anger. For the second time that day, I started to reach for a weapon that wasn’t there. The guards nearest to me noticed the obvious hostile action and turned to face me, putting their hands on their own weapons. They didn’t draw their swords, but the message they were sending was clear.

“Hold it there, men, if you please,” another voice said. A smooth and logical voice, without the fluctuation of emotion. It was incredibly familiar to my ears. Well, it was the first time I’d heard it aloud, but I’d imagined the voice in my head nearly a hundred times throughout my career as a writer.

The guards were quick to turn to face this new stranger. The Sergeant himself looked stubbornly defiant, at least until he saw who had spoken. Then his face went pale, and he came to stiff attention, offering a prompt salute. “Prime Magus!”

Unnoticed by the others, I closed my eyes, wishing that I’d misheard both the voice and the sergeant’s latest words. It couldn’t be. The absolute worst person I could run across, and we’d crossed paths in the damn market? I could almost see my imminent destruction looming over my head. Samuel would only have to brush my mind to notice that I was different. Then he’d likely view me as a threat. Ancients that posed a threat weren’t given the time of day to explain. He’d move to fight straight away, only I wasn’t as strong as an Ancient, so I couldn’t defend myself.

“I’ve just heard the testimony that these two merchants offered you, sergeant.”

Almost against my own will, I turned to regard the approaching figure. Tall and thin, with sweeping blue robes fit tight to his frame to allow movement. A light blue crystalline blade hanging at his waist. He had a pale face, with jet-black hair tied into a short ponytail, bearing a white streak that stretched from his widow’s peak to the end of his hair. Samuel Bragg, the Prime Magus of Tyrman, and Archmage of Knowledge in the College of Milagre. The single strongest mage within this continent, and probably the world.

“I heard their testimony, Prime Magus,” the sergeant replied. His tone was respectful, almost sycophantic. But he’d gone pale under the Archmage’s scrutiny, and a bead of sweat was trickling down from his temple. “We released him after hearing it, sir.”

“And when he told you that this gentleman was his ally,” Samuel continued, gesturing toward Gogo, “Why did you not release him as well? From what I can tell, he is as guiltless as this man here.”

Samuel turned to give me a slight smile, but it did nothing to soothe my nerves. I could only hope that he would read my panic as being due to my friend being wrongly arrested. Whether or not he saw through me, he directed his attention back to the sergeant, who had still made no move to release Gogo or even reply. Seeing this, he addressed the guard instead.

“Release his restraints,” Samuel said. His voice was level and calm, but there was no mistaking the authority in it. “If I hear that this has happened again, sergeant, I will be having a word with Enri.”

The sergeant looked as though he wanted to refute the order to his underlings, but seemed to think better of it. The guard that Samuel had given the order hurried to obey, unlocking the cuffs and freeing Gogo. Gogo stepped clear of the guards, sending a burning glare in the direction of the sergeant as he moved to stand beside me, but said nothing else.

“Excellent,” Bragg said, rubbing his hands together in a gesture of apparent pleasure. “You may carry on then, guardsmen. Take the thief to the barracks.”

They were quick to comply, one man grabbing each of the thief’s arms and urging him forward. The sergeant hesitated a second longer, returning Gogo’s glare. Then, catching Samuel’s eye, he offered a quick salute and followed his men. They pushed roughly through the crowd of figures that were now returning to the market, who all seemed relieved that the danger had passed.

“I’m terribly sorry about that,” Samuel said, addressing Gogo. “I’m glad I was here. I was coming to the market to get a quick bite to eat and saw. If you’d like, I’d be more than willing to bring it to his supervisor’s attention.”

“No,” Gogo said, casting a curious glance in my direction. “That won’t be necessary, Mr…”

He tailed off, realizing that he didn’t recognize Samuel. Not that I could blame him. Unfazed, Samuel extended a hand in greeting. “Samuel Bragg. A pleasure to meet you.”

Gogo’s mouth fell open slightly, putting the pieces together. His face showed nothing but blank surprise as he shook hands. “As in Archmage Bragg?”

“That is one of my many jobs,” he agreed affably, grinning. “It sounds impressive, but I assure you it’s not that special. More paperwork than anything else.”

Then, as I dreaded, Samuel turned his eyes toward me. “Looks like you had some nasty wounds there, friend. Do you need more healing?”

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. What if he heard the lingering panic in my voice? It was all I could do to keep my face straight. As long as he didn’t touch my mind, I stood a chance. So, in order to avoid letting him touch me, I offered the sort of greeting that wouldn’t require physical contact. I bowed deep from the waist. He looked a little surprised but returned the gesture at once.

“Well, if you insist,” he said, then lifted a hand casually. “But at the very least let me repair your armor.”

His mana had flashed over me before I could even blink, coating the leather and cleaning it. The stains from the blood vanished like mist under the bright sun, and the two holes mended flawlessly. Even the plates of metal that were scratched from the battle took on their previous polished shine. Nodding in satisfaction, he inclined his head to the two of us.

“Have a good day then, gentleman. I must be off.”

And, without another word, he walked around us and away without a backward glance. Both Gogo and I turned to stare after him, wondering at the awe-inspiring encounter. Before I could even begin to process the absurd event, words appeared in front of my eyes.

 

You have discovered a new race!

[Enari]

This race has been added to the list of races you can become via [Assimilate]

 

“Do you think he figured out who you were?” Gogo asked, breaking me out of my thoughts and leaning close to keep his voice low.

“What?” I asked, still partially out of it.

“Bragg,” Gogo said. “Do you think he was able to figure out who you are?”

I took a moment to calm myself, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a low hiss. “I don’t think so. I don’t think he saw anything besides a regular human.”

Gogo nodded as if in understanding, but his face was still stuck in a frown of deep thought. “I suppose it wouldn’t be too bad if he did find out, would it? It’s not as though he would attack you.”

I didn’t comment on that, precisely because I did fear that exact thing. Deciding that it was probably best not to linger on the subject and draw further attention to ourselves, I stepped out of the way of the traffic that had resumed around us, and went back to the merchant’s booth.

“I’m glad you got out of that sticky situation,” the blacksmith said, his eyes wide. “I thought for sure your friend was going to end up in a cell.”

“Thank you for defending me,’ I told the man. “And for honing my sword.”

“Ah, yes,” he said as if just remembering. He handed it over then. The sword was in a new scabbard, and when I drew it out to test its balance, it felt the same as ever. But I could tell, and not just with the help of the system, that it had been sharply improved. The edge seemed keener than before, and the entire spine of the blade almost seemed stronger.

 

You have gained new equipment!

 

Longsword +1

This weapon has been improved

 

1d8 Damage

Critical Range 18-20 (x2)

1