Blacksmith vs. the System 298

I wasn’t the only one who watched the approach of the Tristelion envoy. He moved alone, but everyone else watched him like a hawk. Including his five bodyguards, each looking more formidable than the previous one. Noticeably, each bodyguard carried the sigil of a different guild. Combined with his distressed state, I guessed that things were not going well in Tristelion.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted me once he stood in front of me, bowing to show respect … somewhat deeper than an envoy from another city should require. That alone would have alerted me that something was wrong if his situation with his bodyguards did not.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know about the source of his distress. Tristelion was a complicated city, ruled by a coalition of guilds. They had some of the greatest dungeons, at least among the publicly revealed dungeons, their sphere of influence even larger than Asterion or Drakka.

The larger sphere of influence meant more benefits, but also a greater challenge to control the area. They handled that by letting guilds take over both the benefits and responsibilities in exchange for a certain tithe.

Which was at the root of their problems.

Human history had many examples of how feudal delegation could go awry, triggering rebellions. Especially when combined with the fact that those guilds had a strong voice in the management of the city, making some of the obvious solutions impossible.

I had no idea what that meant in terms of their interplanetary sponsors, as their existence was still a secret when the general public was concerned, meaning none of our spies could get a handle on the issue.

“Ambassador Hank,” I responded. “I welcome you to the City of Steel.” It was a noncommittal opening, expecting him to continue like that.

“We beseech your help, Your Majesty,” he said instead, proving my expectations wrong.

“My help, ambassador?” I questioned, doing my best to keep my expression pleasant. “What exactly do you need? A weapon —”

“No, Your Majesty. We need the help of the city itself. We are in a terrible bind.”

“And, by we, you mean…”

“The city lord himself,” he responded, then he looked around.

“The city lord? And what exactly is the problem?” I asked.

He looked around hesitantly, then glanced toward his bodyguards, who tensed when their gazes met. “Maybe in a private meeting, Your Majesty?” he suggested. He tried to make it look like it was his fear that was speaking, but underneath, I saw a flicker of cold calculation. He probably wanted it as a source of intimidation against the guilds.

Guilds that sent the bodyguards to keep an eye on him and listen to his talks, only to be befuddled by our trick with the privacy wards.

“Don’t worry. The wards will keep our secrets.”

“In any case, I would much rather—” he continued, trying to change my mind.

“Speak, or not. It’s your choice,” I responded, my tone implying it was his only chance to get our help.

He paused, regret flashing in his gaze for a moment before he hid it behind fake respect. He was a good actor, just not good enough.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “We need your presence as an arbitrator, to ensure the safety of our city lord while he makes a deal with the guilds.”

“Arbitration with muscle,” I commented, pausing while he watched me, tense. “That’s a big request, especially when it requires me to put myself between your city lord and many guilds. What exactly is the topic of discussion?”

“I can’t reveal —”

I cut him off again. I might not like politics, but that did not mean I was incompetent at it. “It seems that you’re under a certain misconception, Ambassador. I’m not burning with desire to be involved in the operation of another city. Not when my hands are already full with two. Either speak, or find another hired sword to hide under.”

He looked indecisive, looking around again. “Is there no way we can arrange for a private meeting?” he asked. I shook my head. He looked around him, and tensed again. “Fine. I’m here, because our city is in danger. We believe some of the guilds are collaborating with heretics, and they are preparing to sacrifice our citizens. Some of my bodyguards are already working for heretics. Maybe all of them. I need your help getting rid of them before we can talk more.”

Sympathy and sadness for lost lives bubbled inside me. Feeling emotional about the possible senseless loss of life was normal. My sudden desire to take action, and ignore the long-term implications, was not.

“I see,” I muttered, letting the sympathy and sadness I was feeling affect my tone, but I solidly ignored the desire to act, and focused on the long-term consequences. Consequences that a part of me was begging me to ignore.

I spent that time examining the sensation. One that was surprisingly familiar. It didn’t take long for me to realize where I had felt it before.

Soren.

Whenever he had revealed something suspicious about his class, a voice in the back of my head reminded me about the more critical issues I needed to focus on rather than his unimportant secrets. Back then, I hadn’t even realized that there was something wrong, and even looking back, I hadn’t been able to identify the mechanism conclusively. It was not the case at the moment. I could identify the source, because I had the tools to repeat it.

Charisma.

It was an insidious application, using it as a subtle weave rather than a hammer, playing with the emotions of the recipient.

That realization triggered a complicated emotion in me. Anger, against the ambassador for daring to manipulate me like that. Curiosity, wondering exactly how bad the things between the city lord and the guilds are for them to risk such a dangerous ploy. Satisfaction, as it confirmed that possessing Charisma meant I was practically immune to such tricks. Just like Essence allowed me to perceive mana, Charisma allowed me to catch his trick once I realized where to look.

I even felt gratitude, but the ambassador was not the recipient. No, the target of it was Soren. Now that I was subjected to the same effect from another manipulator, I could confirm that he had limited his manipulation to the absolute minimum, never using it for more than maintaining the secrecy around him and his brother.

I was not happy about being supernaturally manipulated, but it would be hypocritical for me to act like he had committed a sacrilegious act, especially when it mirrored what I had done against Maria and Eleanor at first.

Rather than spending too much time on that fact, I focused on the present, and caught the gaze of the ambassador. “I am willing to protect the helpless, but I can’t act against my guests,” I responded.

The moment I said that, my emotions intensified, a voice at the back of my head begging me to ignore all common sense and act. I paused, letting my face show conflict, but my mind was busy with something else.

Examining his Charisma was working, and how I could counter it. My previous experience was limited to wielding it as a metaphorical hammer, while the current use was more of a web. Luckily, at this point, I was very familiar with how skills operated. I delved deep into Command skill, applied the weakest Charisma I could let slide, and created a shield, one that created a shield for his skill to latch on.

If revealed, I was ready to claim that it was a magical skill. But, it seemed unnecessary. The emotional manipulation disappeared, but he wasn’t even aware of its disappearance.

That wasn’t too surprising, as the effect he created felt unidirectional. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have risked revealing my hidden stat.

[Command (Common) - 21 -> Sovereign Dominion (Legendary) 1]

The result surprised me. I had expected the skill to transform, but a jump from Common to Legendary was a surprise. I didn’t think the situation deserved such a reward.

I suspected it had something to do with my class. After all, the title of king was likely not just a placeholder.

“Your Majesty,” he repeated, the pressure getting more and more intense, though it didn’t affect me in the slightest. Though, despite that, I could sense he was not at limit, probably because he needed to hide hiss trick from the others. No wonder he was desperate for a private meeting. “Please, the lives of our citizens are at stake. You have to help us.”

[Sovereign Dominion (Legendary) 1 -> 9]

“They are our guests, and I can’t take action as long as they are in my city,” I said, deliberately revealing a weakness.

“So, you will act once they leave.”

“I have to. The lives of many helpless people are at stake. First, you have to drag them to a concealed location, so that we could keep it hidden, maybe blame Drakka for it.”

“That would be marvelous, Your Majesty,” he responded, unaware that he was signing his own imprisonment, though I wouldn’t spill any tears if things went badly and he ended up dead.

After he used Charisma trying to change my mind, I was not exactly filled with a desire to protect him.