MM - Chapter 260 - MANASERVANT

The tavern air, thick with the scent of stale ale and fear, was a stage set for a performance Raine had no desire to give. Lucius’s interference, both in the yard and the multiple attempted kill-steals, forced his hand. It was not the boy himself that mattered, but the audience who witnessed him. Every noble in Celendine’s Shield, and by extension their soldiers, now had an opinion of Alaric and Astra Infernum. Their perceptions would shape their intentions, and therein lay the problem.

Whether Raine responded with mercy or malice, a few would inevitably seek to curry his favor. Their efforts would manifest as offers of direct aid to Alaric, and outright assistance toward Astra Infernum, a poisoned chalice he wanted no part of. The moment they perceived their actions as ‘helping’ his lower-level guilders, the very systems of ZionLine would nullify the Superiority and Attunement his people had come here to earn. 

Lucius had left Raine only one path forward: to be so thoroughly repugnant, so utterly unhinged, that none would dare associate with him. He had to become a pariah. 

He leaned forward, the glowing Eyes of Amanesh unnervingly boring into Lucius. A single bead of sweat traced a path down the young noble’s temple. There was no pity to be felt. Lucius, like so many young men desperate to prove their worth, had single-handedly authored his own misery.

Bloodlust was on a tight leash; only the pure, undiluted intent to murder saturated the space between them. Raine could feel the coiled tension of the other nobles at his back, their hands hovering near weapons, waiting for a signal to act. He let the silence stretch, drawing it taut until it vibrated with the need for action. Only then did he shatter it.

His open palm slammed down on the heavy table; the crack of the impact made every noble in the room jump in surprise. A harsh, barking laugh erupted from Raine’s chest, devoid of humor and full of menace. He pitched his voice to a threatening growl. “Why wouldn't I involve your father?” He roared, leaning so close that Lucius flinched away from his breath. “Isn’t it obvious? If I challenged a spineless worm like you to a duel, your father wouldn’t let the matter rest, would he? I’d be forced to kill him eventually. Doesn't it make more sense to start with him? Why cut off a limb first when the whole tree needs to come down!”

Lucius scrambled to find his composure, voice cracking to project an authority he knew wouldn’t save him. “B-but, I truly don’t have access to that much gold! Even if I sold the armor from every one of my subordinates, it wouldn’t cover half of what you demand! And if I did, it would be by my father’s own hand that my life would come to an end. Please, there must be some room for compromise!”

Raine leaned back in his chair, making a show of inspecting his fingernails before clicking his tongue. “How, precisely, is any of that my problem? If you lack the funds, your father surely has them. I find I’m liking this idea more with each passing moment. I’ll schedule a visit to his estate in… how long will it take me to reach 2nd-tier at this pace? Two days? Three? Anyway, once I’m there, my blade will explain the situation, then we can all sit down for tea. I’m certain his severed head will be quite understanding of my losses, until it dissipates into the ether, that is.”

The reminder that everything Alaric had done so far, he did as a mere classer, was not appreciated by anyone in the room. The thought of how utterly terrifying he would become at the next tier was enough to wash Lucius’s entire body with cold sweat. His desperate eyes darted from one face to another, pleading for a savior. 

Just as Raine knew she would, a hero made herself known. A voice as soft and gentle as a calm breeze sounded from behind. “Lord Alaric, perhaps I could be of assistance in this delicate matter. We Bertram’s are well known for the fairness of our mediations.”

In all his years, Raine had met only three archetypes of nobility: the exceedingly rare few who were genuinely good, the avaricious curs who would betray their own mothers for another coin, and the conniving spiders who derived pleasure from orchestrating events from the shadows. He had pegged Lady Elowen as the latter the moment he laid eyes on her, and she had just proven him right. A count’s daughter had no reason to intervene in a squabble between a baron and an upstart, unless she was after the actual prize: his Queen’s Favor. She meant to either wield it for her own gain or, at the very least, ensure it was never pointed in her direction.

The most effective way to deal with a spider hiding in the shadows was to shed enough light that its web was reduced to ashes. Raine triggered Grace of Nirvana and Spectral Integration. His form dissolved, and he phased straight through the bench. He rematerialized directly in front of Elowen before her mind could process his movement. “I told you to leave!”

Bloodlust tore from him in an unrestrained wave. The invisible barrier of his inner realm cracked, allowing his mental energy to take on a physical force. The pressure sent her auburn hair billowing back as if caught in a gale. “Curse my name, attack me, humiliate me,” he spat the words, voice a low snarl, “and I will not bat an eye. However, I do not abide thieves and manipulators. How would you like it if I spent my Favor to have your entire family wiped from existence? Is that what you want? If not, then sit down and shut your mouth!”

He gave the twin sycophants no opportunity to intervene. Looking past her, he pinned each of them with a gaze that promised a swift and brutal end to the next person who moved. They froze, their bravado evaporating. Elowen’s carefully crafted persona of serene control was shattered, exposing the raw fear beneath. 

Now that he had planted the seed of what his Favor was capable of, they would all know her meddling for what it was. She trembled openly, unshed tears welling in her eyes as her mouth worked silently, no words escaping. She stumbled back, senses not returning until she collapsed into her chair. Raine had already turned his back on her, the dismissal in no way diminishing the threat he represented.

Beyond the tavern walls, where Bloodlust had been spread in a wide, passive net, he felt the pings of multiple sturdy wills drawing closer. The party of 3rd-tier guards stationed nearby had been content to observe from a block away, but his shout at a count's daughter had spurred them to action. His tone shifted once more, now a compassionate and understanding uncle, voice soft yet full of wisdom and shared grief. “If you truly wish to leave your father out of this, then our only path forward is a contract of debt.”

Raine withdrew the document he’d prepared ahead of time from his inventory and slid it across the table. The terms were simple: with his future barony as collateral, Lucius would surrender all the gold currently on his person and forfeit every copper he earned in the future until the debt was paid, save for a pittance allotted for living expenses. There were a few exceptions in the fine print that would make it impossible to weasel out of later, and of course, several options for early payment. Most notably, there was no mention of interest.

Lucius scanned the document, his expression a mixture of disbelief with a sliver of solace. “You will truly leave my family alone if I sign this?”

“Of course,” Raine drawled gently. “Were I to break the agreement, I would be cast out of Vaateaire, never to return. We Travelers might have some advantages, but we pay for them by being strictly bound to the rules of your world.”

“But… two silva per day,” Lucius whispered, the reality of the terms settling in. “Is it even possible to live on so little?” The thought that he would be reduced to eating stale bread and unseasoned gruel seemed to distress him more than the threat of his family’s demise.

“That’s double what a peasant survives on!” Raine slammed his hand on the table again, slipping back into his furious persona. “All it takes to keep your father alive is giving up fine ale and expensive whores, and you’re hesitating? What kind of son are you?”

“What? I—I have never been with a lady of the night! How dare you—” Lucius froze mid-protest, his eyes bulging as he remembered who he was talking to. He cleared his throat. “Ahem. I mean to say, I must ask you not to insult my dignity!”

A slow, predatory grin spread across Raine’s face. The boy was learning. If he were the rare first type of noble, then there was no reason to let him go so easily. The thought triggered several more.

I should be charging his parents for the harsh lesson in growing the fuck up and not sticking your neck out for someone to chop it off. What a wasted opportunity. Wait a damn second! If I set a few more straight and make a name for myself, wouldn't they be falling all over themselves to send their kids my way? I'd make a killing! A few million gold for valuable life lessons from Baron Alaric of the Earth Realm… That’s got a killer ring to it! I’d need to stay out of any particular faction, but I planned to do that anyway.

“Hold on.” Raine snatched the contract back, tucking it into his inventory. With a few finger strokes, he added a new stipulation. The words appeared on the parchment when he withdrew it and slid it back across the table.

Lucius blinked at the freshly scrawled line. “I have to write to my father every day with an update? This humiliation is a step too far!” He planted his palms on the table, a spark of his earlier defiance returning.

Raine waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t specify you must update him on your debt. You simply have to tell him how you are doing. A fitting punishment, I think, for a son so hesitant to perform the bare minimum to save his father’s life.”

“Save his life?” Lucius shook his head in disbelief. “But you are the one forcing me to… never mind.” His shoulders slumped. He took one last look at the faces behind Raine, and finding no one else willing to stand up for him, his head dropped in utter defeat. He drew the dagger at his waist, pricked his thumb, and pressed the bloody digit to the parchment, sealing their pact. 

Doubtless, the boy intended to do his best to get out of it later, but Raine didn’t mind. Let him try. He signed as well, then checked his interface for the transfer. “Fifteen thousand gold? That’s all you had on you?” He fixed Lucius with a disappointed frown before turning his gaze on the other nobles. “Is it normal for the scion of a house to carry so little coin?”

The twin viscount sons and Elowen shook their heads, but the three other baron apparents nodded in agreement. Raine’s vicious smile returned, letting them know they had just made a catastrophic error. “In that case, fifty thousand apiece, from each of you. Hand it over.”

They stared at his outstretched hand as if it were an unsolvable puzzle. “Uhh… why?” One of the young barons stammered, then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth as if to force the word back in.

Raine crossed the room to hover over them. “Because I did not grant you permission to hunt those four Crandals today. You stole my kills. And if you do not pay, you will not earn a single drop of Superiority until I decide I have had my fill of this place and depart. Who can say how long that will be?”

They all knew his nonchalant demeanor could pivot to murderous rage in an instant. Anxious glances passed between them. They were unwilling to deny him, but equally reluctant to part with such a fortune. The three baron apparents looked the most terrified, having already admitted they carried as little as Lucius.

“I will pay for them, Lord Alaric.” Elowen’s voice was a soft murmur. She looked up at him through thick lashes, green eyes a mask of innocence. “Three hundred thousand, correct? If… if you would permit us to hunt the Crandals freely during your stay, I would be willing to add another hundred thousand.”

Raine wasn't buying her demure facade for a second. His jaw tightened, but he managed to suppress the wave of disgust that rose in him. She failed to learn a thing. She was still trying to manipulate the situation to her advantage. Accepting such a sum from a count’s coffers was tantamount to agreeing to further entanglement with her family. If she couldn’t handle him, someone with more experience and clout would surely be up to the task.

“Fine.” Raine obliged. So long as he retained the Queen’s Favor, her family wouldn’t cross the line. In the meantime, there was little reason not to drain resources from their foolish daughter. And if they really did cross that line, well, it would not be the first time in the kingdom’s history that a noble family had pushed a Favored too far and been erased for their meddling.

She released a held breath, one hand pressed dramatically to her chest. With a flourish of the other, she produced a hefty, arrayed sack of coins. Raine avoided her attempt to touch him by snatching the bag from below. It vanished into his inventory, and without another word, he headed for the door. When Lucius did not rise to follow, Raine paused and glanced back with a frown. “What are you doing? Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry, what?” The boy shook his head, drink halfway to his lips, despondence written across his features. It was possible he hadn't heard a word since signing his life away to a madman.

“Did you not read the contract?” Raine asked, voice laced with impatience. “Under the alternative payments clause, you can erase one hundred gold of your debt per day by attending to me. I left my manservant in Silverlight. Come along.”

“I did read that, but…” Lucius stammered, “That is, I mean no offense when I say this, why would I ever choose that option to pay this… debt?”

“Simple,” Raine shrugged, hiding an evil grin. “If you perform your duties well enough, I’ll bring you along the next time I have tea with Lady Selena.”

As if that’s ever going to happen. 

Lucius sat ramrod straight, the mention of the princess acting as a physical blow that shocked him sober. His despair was instantly replaced by a desperate, calculating light. He hesitated for only a moment before rising from his seat. “As you wish, My Lord. With so few hours remaining in the day, it may well be the easiest hundred gold I have ever earned.”

“That’s the spirit!” Raine clapped him on the shoulder, laughing with genuine amusement this time.

Lucius followed him out, pausing at the threshold to offer a stiff, formal bow to Elowen and the other nobles. He took one step into the cool night air before his body went rigid all over again. Sprawled in the shadows against the rough-hewn wall of the adjacent potsmith’s shop were seven figures he knew well. Kenry was there, along with several other aides. The whole group was a broken mess of bruises, torn finery, and faint scorch marks that rank of ozone.

He rushed to his aide’s side. “Kenry! What happened? Who did this to you?” He shouted, shaking the man by the shoulders.

Kenry groaned, coming awake. His bruised eyes were swollen shut. “Y-Young Master? Is that you?”

“It is me! I am here! Quick, drink this.” Lucius fumbled for a potion, holding the bottle of clear liquid to the older man’s lips. The Celestial Energy trapped inside took immediate effect. The worst of Kenry’s injuries receded with a faint glow. As his eyes opened and focused, they landed on the figure of Alaric standing behind his master. 

A raw, terrified scream tore from Kenry’s throat as he tried and failed to scramble backward, pointing an accusing finger. “Murderer!”