Chapter 16: A Debt Past Due
Lady Sylvara Vaelthorne waved one last time as the Princess turned to look back at the Elders. A moment later, Jamie and the rest of her party rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.
Sylvara smiled. She already knew the temptation Princess Jamie would be forced to resist on her way south and out of the city. And it had nothing to do with the Elder Hall and everything to do with Jamie's self-proclaimed favorite café.
“I'm guessing by the look on your face, you're thinking the same thing I am,” Lady Akari said.
Sylvara chuckled. “Yes. That girl's obsession with coffee is troublesome,” she admitted.
“I don't know,” Mike said as he too watched the party disappear around the corner. “I'm a bit partial to the stuff myself. If anything, I'd say the girl has excellent judgment when it comes to the nectar of the gods.”
Both women looked at him.
Mike shrugged. “What? Coffee is one of the best things the Goblins ever invented.”
“Not sure what I'd do without my usual four cups to start the day,” he added.
“Four?” Akari asked.
“You two are the weird ones, not the Princess and me,” Mike said.
Sylvara and Akari sighed at exactly the same time.
“Shall we?” Lady Akari asked.
“Yes. I'm betting they stop at the Coffee Grounds,” Sylvara said.
“Nope. That's a loser's bet, and I'm not going to bite,” Lady Akari replied quickly.
“I'll take that action,” Mike said. “Say... ten gold pieces?”
Sylvara looked at him.
“Oh, and the loser buys a slice of apple pie and a large cup of coffee,” Mike amended.
“So, to be clear, you're saying the Princess will not stop at the café?” Sylvara asked, not quite sure she was hearing him correctly.
“Yup.”
“Your bet is that they keep right on walking out of Glenhaven, with zero stops along the way?”
“That's my bet.”
Sylvara narrowed her eyes.
She and Mike didn't bet often, but the damn little know-it-all Gnome won nine out of ten bets they ever made. Still, she couldn't pass this one up. There was no way the Princess wasn't stopping at the Coffee Grounds. Not after that aroma hit her nose.
“You're on, Mike.”
She shook the Voice's hand to seal the deal.
Lady Sylvara turned to the others still gathered in the courtyard and politely said her goodbyes. Lady Akari and Mike did the same.
As they walked, Sylvara started thinking about what she would buy with the money. It had to be something good. Something she could flaunt in front of Mike every time she wore it.
She had just settled on a new stole enchanted with magical protection when Mike interrupted her daydreaming.
“Vixen left an hour ago to make sure there are no surprises waiting for the Princess,” Mike said out of the blue. “She'll be watching the Princess from a distance, and I told her only to intervene in the worst-case scenario.”
“I thought Vixen said we should leave the Princess to fate while she's in the forest,” Akari said. “You said her Great Tree needs the Princess to prove herself worthy of her title, and being looked after would make her accomplishments less impressive.”
“Yes, the Tree did say that, but I got a message late last night. The Great Tree wants Vixen to watch over Jamie. And only Vixen.”
“Did it say why the sudden change?” Sylvara asked.
“No, and that has me worried,” Mike admitted. “In all my days, I've never known one of the Great Trees to change its mind about anything.”
“What do you think it means?” Akari asked.
“I don't know, but my gut tells me something has the Great Trees on guard.”
Sylvara nearly tripped over a raised stone in the walkway. She had turned toward Mike and stopped watching where she was going.
“Perhaps we should send an Elder to watch over the Princess as well,” Sylvara suggested.
“No. Whatever has the Trees spooked, they think Vixen is enough,” Mike said. “And the Trees are right about one thing. The Princess needs to do this on her own. The forest is watching, and it knows when someone is being babysat.”
“I've been assured that Vixen watching over the Princess won't affect her assessment too badly.”
Sylvara wanted to argue, but Mike was right. The forest watched. And they needed the forest on their side when the real war arrived on their doorstep.
As they rounded the same corner and stepped onto Heartwood Grove, Glenhaven's busiest thoroughfare, Sylvara saw that Jamie's party had, in fact, not stopped at the café. Judging by how far ahead they were, it didn't even look like Jamie had slowed down to consider stopping for coffee.
“Hells damn it.”
“How did you know, Mike?” she asked, turning an accusing eye on the Gnome.
“Let's just say I chose the right scout,” Mike said with a chuckle. “That boy does not play around when it comes to duty.”
“I really need to get that Goblin to lighten up,” Sylvara heard Mike grumble under his breath.
They walked the remaining quarter mile to the Coffee Grounds. Just before they reached the café, Mike spoke up.
“Oh, look. This must be our lucky day...” He paused. “Well, I guess my lucky day. They have an open table.”
“I'll save our spot while you get the coffee and desserts,” Mike called over his shoulder, already making his way toward it.
Sylvara sighed as she watched the smug little Gnome walk away, then turned to Akari.
“You want anything?”
“Tea and a piece of apple pie for me as well, please and thank you,” Akari said as she too headed toward the table, now occupied by one very self-satisfied Gnome.
“Hope you learned your lesson,” Akari called over her shoulder.
“Got it.”
The line to order was long, just like it always was, so Sylvara had to stand and wait with only herself for company.
Just how did Mike pull that off?
She didn't know the Pathfinder all that well, but was he really someone who could keep the Princess on such a short leash?
If that was true, Sylvara needed to get that Goblin leveled up as quickly as possible and assigned to the Royal Guard with all haste.
After getting their order, Sylvara walked over to her friends and placed their cups and pies in front of them. As she set her own pie down, a face just off to her left caught her eye.
The Goblin didn't look like he was from around here. His skin was grayer and more ashen than most Goblins'. Maybe from one of the mountain towns, she wondered.
And there was something about his eyes. Not the color. That part, at least, was normal.
It was the way they kept moving. The way he looked around as if he were categorizing everything he saw. And it was hard to miss how deliberately he avoided looking at her or the other two Elders.
Sylvara was about to ask Mike if he recognized the ashen Goblin when Mike spoke before she could.
“I'm leaving for the east after we finish,” Mike said through a mouthful of apple pie.
“And why is that?” Sylvara asked.
“You're not the only one who still owes me a debt to be paid,” he said.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
His voice had gone cold, even though he'd tried—and failed—to make the words sound like a joke.
Mike held out his hand. Without saying a word, Sylvara got out the ten gold coins and placed them in his palm.
“The undead?” Sylvara asked as she watched her coins disappear into Mike's pocket.
“Yes.”
“Don't you think it would be better to wait until the Princess returns in five days?” Akari asked.
“No. I need to get eyes on the Chaos Lands as soon as possible. The Goddess is blind to what takes place there, the same way the Gods of Chaos are blind to what happens here,” Mike said. “They're up to something. I just know it.”
He took another bite of his pie.
“The undead aren't sending raiding parties into the forest for tarts and giggles. They're many things, but stupid isn't one of them.”
“How long?” Sylvara asked.
“I should be back before the Princess returns home.”
Mike took a drink of his coffee.
“I'd like to see her off too, before we lose her for the next two years.”
“Oh, and before I go, I already know what the two of you are planning while I'm gone.”
“It's great that you want to power-level Ren, but I'd stop at Level 8. If you push him all the way to ten, one or both of you are going to lose a level. I know you were downplaying how little experience you have into Level 94, so I ran the numbers. Neither of you has enough experience to gift that much without dropping a level.”
Mike watched the two exchange a knowing look.
He sighed.
“Well, I tried.”
Marek watched in disappointment as the Princess only lingered outside of the café for a brief moment before the Goblin with her urged her to keep walking. There went his hopes of perhaps overhearing her group say something about their plans to the south. That was all he knew right now. The Princess and her party were heading south to grind out some levels for her and her spirit-fox. This only left Marek with one option, and he already knew there was a zero-percent chance he wasn’t going to get caught following them.
The Kitsune was bad enough, but the Pathfinder with them, the Goblin, was known as an up-and-comer in the lower-level tiers. From the reports Marek had on that guy, he never let his guard down and was always going out on scouting patrols. There was no question the Pathfinder was going to find him during one of his scouting forays. But could he gather enough information about the Princess’s plans to keep from being tortured?
Marek was confident in his ability to get away from the Pathfinder. He was only Level 12 to Marek’s Level 26. Getting away from someone that low would be a walk in the forest for him. Add in the fact that he’d been raised in the southern forest, and he would have no trouble.
Marek thought back to his childhood, back when he knew joy and freedom. Then came the day everything changed, when all but he and his younger brother had been murdered by the undead. His father had told Marek to take his little brother deep into the forest and hide, and Marek had done exactly that.
He still remembered the voice that found them. Cold and void of compassion. He remembered how that voice made him feel and, worse, what that voice made him do. All these years later, Marek still cowered whenever he heard it. As the Vampire Lord's Thralls, Marek and his little brother were forever bound to serve the vampire who had killed their mother and father. Marek knew that coldhearted bastard wouldn't just hurt him; he would also take out his anger on his little brother, the only family Marek had left in this world.
There… that should be long enough, Marek decided. He’d given the Princess’s party a large lead. Surely neither the scout nor the spirit-fox would sense him following from this distance.
Marek had just been about to get out of his seat when he heard them. The three Elders were talking about the Princess. Had his luck just changed? Marek turned to look at the Princess’s party again.
Take this chance, or follow?
I can still catch up to the Princess, he finally decided. And as best he could, Marek tried to look unremarkable. Just another Goblin holding a steaming cup of coffee.
Marek looked down at the cup… well, maybe not steaming anymore. He had, after all, been sitting here waiting for the Princess for the last half hour.
The longer Marek sat and listened to the two Elders sitting and talking at the table, the more relieved he became as information kept pouring out of their mouths. Must be nice to feel secure in the knowledge that you were safe in a city like this. Only they were not. If these Elders knew what Marek knew, they would be tripling the guard on the city walls.
As he sat there and got the information needed to save his and his brother’s lives, Marek almost spit out the coffee he was now sipping when the Gnome started talking about his plans after the Dryad joined the group.
Some time later, Marek watched in stunned silence as the Elders all got up to leave. That was when the Dryad shot him an inquisitive look. He’d just been caught staring at her, so instead of trying to pretend he hadn’t been looking, he gave the Dryad Elder his best fake smile and a warm wave.
The Dryad returned the wave but didn’t smile back at him. Stupid. It was moments like that that were going to get Marek found out. It wouldn’t take long to discover who Marek was, even though the Dryad Forest thought him to be dead. And it wouldn’t take long to put two and two together.
They would kill Marek for what he was, but not out of hate. Out of mercy. There was no way of coming back from being a Thrall, and in truth, Marek might almost welcome death if not for the fact that he would be leaving his little brother all alone.
Thankfully, a moment later, the Dryad Elder lost interest in him and turned to leave with the others. He counted the seconds as he sat there.
“May I bring you a new cup of coffee?” a Fairy waitress asked.
“Ah, no. I was just leaving,” Marek said. After standing up, Marek left two silver coins on the table as a tip. He didn’t have a lot of money to spare, but upsetting a waitress after taking a table for just himself for as long as he did might make her remember him. Something Marek desperately didn’t want her to do.
Fifteen minutes later, heading south, Marek went over what he was going to say in the two separate messages he would be sending when he got to the farmhouse that was his base of operations. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be doubling up the notes and sending all four of his ravens out the moment the messages were written.
Two days and several hundred miles later, Mike was in the middle of destroying a laughable attempt at ambushing him.
The Undead should have had the advantage on their home turf, especially considering they had the numbers, but that had been their first mistake. They would have been far better off sending a small, elite group to kill him, preferably one with a heavy focus on mind protection.
Taking a moment to admire his handiwork, Mike found himself almost offended.
A few hundred Undead were busy fighting each other throughout the courtyard, and the longer Mike watched, the more he realized just how badly they had underestimated him. It was clear they knew he was coming, so why hadn't they sent anyone better?
He'd already taken out the three Death Knights and four Necromancers nearly thirty minutes ago. Now all that remained were their minions.
This was almost boring. Worse, it was wasting his time.
Sure, the Undead were feeding Mike souls, but most of them were run-of-the-mill souls. Not the high-end ones he'd come here to collect.
Mike looked over his work again and estimated it would take another thirty minutes for the mind-controlled Undead to finish killing each other. After that, he'd move deeper into the belly of the beast.
In the end, the fight concluded rather unceremoniously when Mike severed the spines of the last three ghouls still standing. Only one of them had been under his control, but letting them fight it out to see who would be the last ghoul standing would have taken longer.
Time Mike didn't have. So he did the deed himself.
As the last soul was taken, Mike took a moment to feel the added power settle into him. He might have lost a level recently, dropping from Level 98 to 97, but the souls he'd consumed in this fight alone had given him eighteen Soul Points. And Soul Points could be converted into both Attribute and Skill Points.
The majority had come from the three Death Knights and four Necromancers. Mike hadn't kept an exact count, but after killing nearly three hundred undead minions, he estimated he'd gotten only seven Soul Points from the entire lot of them.
He was about to start distributing his points when a slow clap came from what he'd thought was an empty building.
Mike turned toward the sound.
“I'd heard one among you had the Soul Eater Skill,” a man's voice called out. “Never imagined it would be a cute little guy like you.”
Mike watched as a vampire stepped into view and tilted his head slightly.
“Although, now that I get a good look at you, you're quite tall for a Gnome.”
The vampire tilted his head the other way.
“I think we should be friends.”
Mike stared at him.
“Sure, they sent me here to kill you, but things don't necessarily have to go down that way. You switching sides works just as well.”
Mike cast Analyze.
STATUS SCREENName: Severin VeyrRace: True VampireSex: MaleLv.: 88Class: Blood StalkerAffinity Types: Blood (Primary), Psychic, DarkWeapon Focus: Claws
TITLES:
Vampire Lord (+15 Charisma)
Taker of Souls (+5 Willpower)
Ferryman of Souls (+5 Spirit)
ATTRIBUTES
Strength: 45
Agility: 80
Constitution: 55
Stamina: 35
Intelligence: 35
Willpower: 63 (+5 Taker of Souls)
Charisma: 65 (+10 True Vampire, +15 Vampire Lord)
Spirit: 30 (+5 Spirit)
ABILITIES (Max: 10)
Soul Eater (Unnatural/Spirit Skill – Passive) — Consumes the souls of those killed by the user, converting their power into Soul Points. Soul Points may be spent to acquire or improve skills or converted into Attribute Points. The price for obtaining this skill is the user's soul. Upon death, the user forfeits all possibility of rebirth and becomes eternally bound to Purgatory, Keeper of Souls, as a Ferryman of Souls. All souls consumed by this skill are released to Purgatory upon the user's death.
Vampiric Speed (Vampire Skill – Passive) — Increases movement speed by 10%.
Blood Magic — Lv. 8 — Allows the manipulation and weaponization of blood through Blood-affinity magic.
Domination (Psychic Spell) — Lv. 7 — Overpowers a target's will and compels obedience.
Thrall Binding (Blood/Psychic Spell) — Lv. 5 — Creates a supernatural bond that binds a victim to the user's will as a Thrall.
Blood Drain (Blood Skill) — Lv. 5 — Drains blood from a living target to restore and empower the user.
Mind Shield (Psychic Defense) — Lv. 5 — Protects the mind against psychic intrusion, domination, and mental manipulation.
Rending Claws (Claw Attack Skill) — Lv. 5 — Unleashes a rapid series of claw strikes designed to tear through flesh and armor.
Crimson Talons (Blood/Claw Attack Skill) — Lv. 5 — Channels Blood affinity through the user's claws, increasing their damage and inflicting severe bleeding.
Mist Form (Vampire Skill) — Lv. 5 — Transforms the user's body into supernatural mist, allowing rapid movement and evasion.
“Wow. Not even a may I before doing that.”
The vampire hopped down the short flight of stairs leading into the corpse-filled courtyard.
“Yup. I've decided. We should definitely be buddies,” Severin said. He spread his arms and looked around. “I mean, look at this lovely landscape you've made for us.”
Mike said nothing. Severin waited.
Then waited a little longer.
“You know, this budding friendship is going to start out rocky if I'm the only one talking.”
“Yeah, that's not going to happen,” Mike finally said. “And your mind Skills aren't going to work on me.”
Severin's smile widened.
“Hey, can't blame a vamp for trying, right? It is kind of our thing, after all.” He shrugged. “And sadly, not everyone has Analyze like you do.”
A bit miffed—and more than a little curious—Mike cast Mind Bend, already knowing it would fail.
Severin's eyebrows rose. “Say... that's not bad.” He took a thoughtful step forward.
“I almost wanted to walk over there and let you stab me in the heart.” Another smile.
“But, you know, dying isn't really my thing.”
“I take it, then, that this is going to be a fight to the death?” Severin asked. “Your death, not mine, to be clear.”
“That would be my understanding. And you will be the one to die here today.”
“Well, I suppose it couldn't be helped.” Severin sounded genuinely disappointed.
“Although, since we're buddies and all, I feel like I should warn you about something. I don't have the same hang-ups about eating souls that you do.”
Mike's expression hardened.
“Dead, Undead, living...” Severin shrugged. “It's all the same to me. And judging by the souls you harvested, you're at quite the disadvantage in this fight.”
His smile returned. “Sure, you have nine levels on me.”
Severin flexed his fingers, and his claws slowly extended to over three inches.
“But I have the stats.” He gave Mike one last expectant look.
“Last chance. Going once... going—”
Severin never made it to two.
Mike struck with everything he had.