Chapter B4C53 - Rage of the Survivor

Chapter B4C53 - Rage of the Survivor

The door to the Duke’s study burst open as a golden-haired young man stormed through in a rage. Duke Raugrave looked up, managing to keep his features smooth only thanks to the forewarning he’d received. He stood and folded his hands together, offering a short bow of the head in respect.

“Lord Jorlin. Welcome.”

However, the young Lord of house Jorlin was not willing to stand on formality, not this day.

“They’re dead, Raugrave! Half of the Jorlin bloodline has been erased! What do you have to say for yourself?!”

Nostas Jorlin stormed to the Duke’s desk and slammed his fists down on it so hard he cracked the reinforced surface. Papers went flying, secretaries and staff members, minor lordlings and ladies themselves, gasped and pushed themselves back against the walls, looking for an escape.

The Duke raised his head and eyed the young man before him. It was clear Nostas had let his emotions run away with him. Red eyed, red faced, his grief and fury were laid bare to the world with no attempt being made to control or conceal them. His father would never have allowed himself to be compromised like this, not even in dire circumstances such as these. At some point, the old had to make way for the new, and it had only been a few years since Restas had made way for his eldest son. Now it fell on the young, inexperienced Lord to lead his house in this time of crisis.

“Are you insinuating the assault on the Jorlin manor was my doing? My responsibility?” Raugrave said, the warning clear in his tone.

“Our best Soldiers were away from the estate in answer to your call! House Jorlin demonstrated our loyalty and look at the result!”

“It is not my purview to ensure the security of any family’s private holdings.”

He didn’t say the quiet part out loud, though he hinted at it. It was none other than Nostas who was responsible for ensuring the safety of his family. If their estate was left in a vulnerable way, he had nobody to blame but himself.

Despite his anger, it was clear Nostas was able to interpret his meaning. The Lord’s face grew darker still as he smashed the desk once more, the wood audibly splintering beneath his fists.

“The security of the province is your responsibility! You want to blame me. How dare you! When the Houses hear what I have to say–”

As Nostas turned to leave, Duke Raugrave reached out and clasped hold of his forearm.

“Don’t come in here, scream at me, destroy my furniture and then think you can leave without letting me say my piece,” Raugrave growled. “Sit down so we can discuss this issue like Lords. You think I don’t care when so much of the blood is spilled? I take my mandate seriously, and your father is one of my closest friends. I grieve with you. Now sit. Let us talk.”

At least some of what he was saying managed to get through to Lord Jorlin. Nostas visibly wrestled with himself before gaining some level of control over his emotions. With a tight nod, he agreed and stiffly drew a chair back and sat down.

“Leave us,” Raugrave dismissed his staff with a wave of his hand before he resumed his own seat.

The terrified men and women made their exit, taking only the bare minimum of time to bow on their way out the door. The Duke didn’t particularly blame them. Though descended from the Noble Houses, they had not inherited the divine will but knew very well just how dangerous it could be. Just because it was illegal to use that Will on Nobles, didn’t mean it never happened. How else was one to keep their distant relatives loyal?

“When did you find out?” Nostas asked, his voice still raw with emotion.

“I heard this morning,” Raugrave replied. “I assure you, every available effort is being made to locate the parties responsible. My investigators are only waiting for your permission to enter the grounds of the estate.”

“They have it.”

“A moment,” The Duke activated an array built into his desk and murmured a few words into it. Thankfully, the fine work of the Arcanists hadn’t been destroyed by the young Lord’s outburst.

A ro’klaw would be sent within a few minutes and reach his teams in the field in less than an hour. The best mages, Marshals and most senior Diviners from the church had been gathered to sniff out the culprit. No one could act against the Divine Blood and get away with it. This was the first and highest law of the Empire.

“Whoever is responsible for this disgraceful offence will suffer the full wrath of the Empire. You have my word,” Raugrave assured him.

“Even if it was another House?” Nostas demanded, his eyes sharpening.

So, he did suspect another House. What secrets did Jorlin hold that another House would be willing to break such a sacred law? The Duke had been too lenient with the Houses, he could see that now. All sorts of barely legal practices had flourished in the lax environment he’d created.

“If it was, then I will petition the Emperor to Extinguish the bloodline,” Duke Raugrave stated gravely.

“Then it is idiocy to get them killed!” the Duke roared. He nearly slammed his own fist down on his desk, but stopped himself at the last moment. The repairs were already going to cost him a fortune, and he liked this desk. “We have been ordered by the Divines themselves! If we fail to fulfil their wishes, then nothing can save us! Any of us!”

There was a loud disturbance at the door, muffled speech that quickly transitioned to raised voices, then open shouting as someone began to pound on the door.

“What in blazes is going on out there?!” Duke Raugrave bellowed.

For the second time within the hour, the door burst open to reveal something of a scrum that had formed just outside the door. The Duke’s personal guard had tangled with members of his staff who had been trying to prevent members of the clergy from bursting through.

“A Divine Revelation, Duke Raugrave!” the Priest called from within the pack. “The Oracles have spoken! A Divine Revelation, my lord!”

“By the Gods, let the man through,” Raugrave shouted. “Let him in here and get the hell out!”

“I bring word from the Temple, Duke Raugrave Kenmor, Lord Nostas Jorlin,” the Priest stated, red faced after the scuffle to get inside had finally resolved itself. “Only minutes ago, the Oracles came out of a trance and communicated the words of the Divines.”

The Duke’s gut tightened painfully as he braced himself. The Ancestors could have said anything, condemned him and the entire province for their poor response to their orders, for example. He desperately hoped he would be given more time, things were finally starting to turn around. Given a few more weeks, the rebellion would be crushed, he was certain of it. They just had to hold out a little longer.

“It relates to the attack on the Jorlin Estate, which is why I was sent immediately,” the Priest heaved.

Nostas rose in his seat, eyes flaring wide.

“What have the Ancestors said? Tell me immediately!”

“The Oracles have stated that the sight of the Divines is no longer obstructed, and sees the face of their enemy.” The Priest almost couldn’t help but begin to intone as he passed on the words of the Oracles. “The Unholy Disease that has burrowed into the heart of this province is the spawn of the Steelarm heretics!”

At first, the Duke felt relief, he wasn’t dead, not yet. Then the confusion came.

“Who? The Steelarm boy? He isn’t dead?”

“Indeed not, my Lord. It was he who assaulted the Jorlin estate, the Divines themselves assure us. He has been hidden from their sight by unholy influences, but they have seen his face at last.”

What was his name?

“Tyron?” the Duke tried to recall. “Tyron Steelarm, wasn’t that his name?”

He remembered the business with the Steelarms. An unfortunate affair, but one they had brought upon themselves. Now their brat was running around massacring Nobles? What was wrong with that family?

“Wasn’t he a Necromancer?” Nostas said quietly. “Are you telling me a Necromancer murdered my family and carted off their remains?”

“What?” the Duke demanded, head snapping to the young Lord. “There weren’t any bodies?”

“No,” Nostas forced through gritted teeth, still staring at the Priest.

“He was. Is,” the Duke said, remembering. “He was a Necromancer. He was supposedly killed years ago. He’s been alive all this time?”

How strong could a Necromancer become in that much time? Strong enough to assault the Jorlin Estate single-handedly, apparently. The more he thought about it, the worse the situation became. This madman, possibly a gold ranked Necromancer already, now had access to Noble flesh? Noble souls?

Raugrave felt the noose tighten around his neck with every second that passed. This was a disaster. The Emperor would want to know, and he would. The Oracles would send word soon, all Divine messages were relayed to the Divine Court.

“We have to find him,” the Duke ground out. “We have to exterminate him, immediately.”

“Allow me to take the lead,” Nostas said, rising from his seat, face tight with fury. “I will avenge my brother and retrieve his spirit, along with those of my family, if it’s the last thing I do.”