Chapter 566 – Separation 4 – Planned

Chapter 566 – Separation 4 – Planned

There was very little opportunity to keep doubting it, the Hidden Tradition was actually just a bunch of normal, pleasant people. Not universally nice, there were a few amongst the tribe leaders who left a first impression with John that could be briefly summarized as 'total asshats', to put it into Eliza's words. That only served for the Gamer to feel even less threatened. Total sweetness was never genuine, and he decidedly preferred eating cherry cake over munching raw sugar.

Which was one of the many pastries presented to him on the buffet once the breakfast assortment was carried off. “We like to hold our meetings in a more relaxed atmosphere,” Ahanu explained as he sat down next to John. It was the first time they exchanged words in over half an hour. After having introduced John to every single person in the room, the Chieftain-Elect had left to have his own conversations. Another thing the Gamer was thankful for; he didn't want to appear to be held by the hand like a child.

“I noticed,” John answered and waved away some smoke tumbling his direction. The open windows did very little to make the air any clearer, with just how many people were continuously smoking. Thus, the motion did very little as well, but at least he was spared the entire whiff of concentrated tobacco.

'...You know, Gaia, I am feeling rather resentful about that Gamer's Body comment, what with my eyes still not working and whatnot,' he thought expecting the supreme deity to hear him. It was mostly sarcastic. There was a grain of genuine anger in there, but he understood the philosophical reasons behind Gaia staying her hand to help him as well as the difference between cigarette smoke and something titled demonic fire.

Which he had since looked into and found an adequate amount of information. Apparently 'demon' was a qualifying term for certain elemental evolutions. Generally malicious but not Lorylim corrupted, their attacks were particularly effective against flesh, both in the immediate and lasting damage department. In the case of normal people this meant scars were rather difficult to heal.

John had witnessed this first hand with Chemilia and Ted. For both of them, the attaching of artificial limbs had necessitated the removal of the scar tissue entirely. For the latter, the reattachment of the found leg had been a different procedure, finished quicker only thanks to an immense amount of money John had pumped into the whole thing to get more specialists working on it. The former was still left with the shape of a hand on her throat. Getting that treated would take years and it would never completely vanish unless they cut it off and healed over it, which wasn’t exactly an option at the throat. Still better than Lorylim scars, but only slightly.

All of that, Gamer’s Body allowed John to get off rather lightly. Only permanent damage he was supposed to get by the damage type was when he dipped below 10% health. Just his luck that it would injure a rather vital part of his sensory system. Then again, better his eyes than a sense he couldn’t replace with his currently toolkit.

It could have been worse. It could also been a whole lot better. Ultimately, the blame wasn’t with Gaia but with the oversized cunt that wielded the blade in the first place.

“Want to try?” Ahanu offered the box as he pulled out a cigarette of his own.

“I have recently, and definitely no, thank you,” the Gamer answered and pulled Eliza into his lap again. “I have my addictive right here, I don’t need anything else.”

“Seriously, fuck off with your stinking peace pipe bullshit,” the blood mage cussed.

Ahanu only chuckled. With Elu around John could imagine most people here were rather desensitized already. “It’s not about the peace pipe, although that’s a pretty narrow look at our ceremonial smoking in the first place.” The leader of the Hidden Tradition lit his cigarette and took a deep huff, having the courtesy to blow it away from John as he ate his cake.

Every time he moved the fork up to his mouth, the adorable little psychopath in his lap stretched towards the food with clearly displayed greed, mouth open. Every time he denied her, she let out an offended little squeal, only to try catching the next load. Sometimes John did her the favour, the other times he just couldn’t help himself but bask in the taste of cherry to the sight of a bothered Eliza. ‘Good times,’ he mused to himself as he listened to Ahanu addressing the gathering at large.

“Alright, everyone, I hope you’re comfortable.” Soft murmurs and raised glasses filled with water toasting towards the young Chieftain-Elect displayed their agreement. They were all sitting around the assortment of pushed together tables, forming a hollow square. In one of the few overlaps with usual form, John was sitting on the corner of one of the short ends. “We have a few things to discuss today: briefly, the exact layout of the ritual we’re going to perform now that our esteemed guests have agreed to it. Then, and this will take much longer I reckon, we will continue our discussion about whether or not to join Fusion as more than an ally. I am certain the presence of the president himself will finally put to rest some of the uncertainties we had in previous meetings.”

Confirming nods and words approved of this structure, and so John was quickly briefed on the ritual a second time. It began with a quick confirmation of his knowledge about the way these things worked in theory, followed by a more interesting explanation about the place this shall happen at.

“We have many burial sites throughout the Appalachian Mountains,” Ahanu, the only one currently standing, said, everyone else listening nonchalantly as they continued to eat quietly. “Most of the tribes prefer to keep the dead to the resting places of their families. However, a central burial ground exists, where we give the final rites to all those who served as chieftain, both as the Chieftain-Elect that serves as the head of all tribes and those of the individual tribes. The ancestor spirits there are the strongest and that is where we would hold the ritual.”

“Straightforward enough,” John nodded. “Is there a way to check if it would even work before we get there?”

“Sadly not, the ritual is not replicable on a smaller scale.”

“How long is it going to take?”

“Impossible to say exactly, but the longest recorded cleansing is said to have taken about an hour. I would say something like double that.”

“I’ll let you sort this out between you. Eliza and I will wait outside,” John said and got up, much to the confusion of the blood mage, who went with him anyway. “Could you go ahead?” the Gamer asked of her when they were half out of the door. “I need to tell Ahanu something...”

The implication that it wasn’t for her ears visibly bothered the little lady. Her pale lips became a narrow, white line and she demonstrably put her fingers in her ears as she stomped away so strongly that John feared for the floorboards.

“Something the matter?” Ahanu wondered when John stepped up to him.

“Would you enter an Illusion Barrier with me for a second?” the Gamer asked and Ahanu narrowed his eyes. “I can’t have her hear what I’m about to tell you.” With her stupendously good senses, John wasn’t going to skip on any precautions. Nothing short of being in another layer of reality would convince him the blood mage wouldn’t be able to hear him.

After a few moments, knowing that, even blind, John had the tools to kill him in a few moments flat with their current power difference, Ahanu did nod. They both raised their hands and John lost no time. “Sigmund is in this city.”

Ahanu’s eyes widened. “How do you...”

“I have my sources,” John skipped out on the explanation. He hadn’t checked yet how Scarlett had found out, but the text, the one he had gotten shortly after arriving where they were, had contained only two words. Properly some security camera footage or a social media account talking about a giant of a guy, John could only guess. “Fact is, it isn’t unlikely that he will meddle in this after all.”

“Then we should postpone the ritual until...” Ahanu’s reaction was exactly what John had predicted, so the Gamer cut him off.

“Until when? The Contender wants to beat the strongest people he can find. In other words, if he is staying here, it may very well be that he wants to find and fight you,” John made clear and Ahanu fell silent as the Gamer’s logic sunk in. “And if you are dead, I assume that ritual will be greatly reduced in its potency.” He didn’t have to make the case why they should immediately pick up and leave this building at least.

If Sigmund was here to fight with Ahanu, however he learned of his existence, then he wouldn’t want the confrontation anywhere else but where the Guide of Old Souls was the strongest. That and, if the Contender was aware of their presence in this building, he would already be here. Right now, they had nothing to fear.

“Yes...” the Chieftain-Elect nodded. “Why do you tell me this in secret?”

“Eliza cannot know this; her hatred for Sigmund is so intense, it already contributed to the melding once. I don’t want to risk repeating that,” John explained. “Look, our course of action shouldn’t change. Our best bet is that he has no idea where the ritual site is, so we should get it done before he finds out. I am only telling you this so you can have your discussion with all necessary information at hand.”

Ahanu looked both thankful and perturbed at all of this. There was no way John could blame him for that, was he himself not entirely sure how to deal with this. He had to pick between two paths. “Alright, once we exit this barrier, I will give you the time to get outside and keep your lady from hearing any of this.”

“Thank you,” John nodded, and moments thereafter he heard Ahanu call for a toilet break while John hurried to catch up to the blood mage.

“What the fuck is this all about?” Eliza wanted to know once they were outside. Rather than answer, John immediately pulled both of them into a new barrier to keep any echoes from entering the blood mages acute ears. Of course that only got the small woman more upset.

John kneeled down in front of her and took both of her hands. “Do you trust me?” he asked, looking up at her. An entirely unfair way to ask this, he had to admit, the damaged girl only had one way to answer.

“Yes... but why do you have to keep a fucking secret from me in the first place?!” Eliza was clenching her fists to such a degree that her unnatural fingernails cut into her palms. Drops of blood fell while her eyes contained the rising water. “Aren’t we beyond all this shit? Don’t YOU trust ME?!”

‘Because I am afraid the ritual won’t work anymore if I don’t,’ John thought, with pain in his heart, but saying as much would have let her figure out what he was on about. Likely, Eliza already had her suspicions, but the Gamer couldn’t confirm that without asking things that would have pushed her in the right direction. “I just want to be prepared for all eventualities,” he allowed himself to say. “You know how I am.”

“Right and you’re usually a way too honest fuck-nugget with all of us,” Eliza grumbled, and he felt only worse with how upset she looked because of his actions. With a few more heavy breaths, her mood swung to something more understanding. Although her voice was still raised, the tone she used was softer, “You better explain it when this beaver peeling shit is over!”

“I will,” John promised and leaned up to give her a quick kiss. “If all goes well, we won’t need any of those signals.”

But John didn’t like to bet on things going well.