Chapter 264: Business

Chapter 264: Business

Velika strolled along the cliff edge, twirling the closed depth gauge by its chain as she watched the swirling mists below. She didn’t need the instrument to tell her that this was a soft place. The shelf had been carved into the frozen rock along the descent at the point just before rank nine gave way to rank ten. A training ground is what it was—free for anyone to use who found it unoccupied. Those who’d carved it were likely dead, and nobody else had stepped up to administer it or charge a fee. Why would they bother, with the rich hunting grounds below?

That’s where she would be if she wasn’t babysitting.

Not that she minded, particularly.

She was earning Ascension credit, and her charges were doing well enough.

Abruptly, she stopped in her tracks, and the snarling Frost Hound that had pounced at her anticipated location gave a startled yelp. In midair, it had no way to abort its leap, and she rolled her eyes as the dumb thing plummeted over the edge.

“Why’d you let it go over?” Gigs panted as he arrived, bending over to plant a fist on one knee, awkwardly clutching the mace held in it.

Velika sniffed, turning to face the winded Tortugo. “Why’d you let it get away from you?”

Gigs grunted, squeezing his eyes shut. “Damn things. Taunting Shout hardly works at all.”

“You’re not supposed to be using the shout,” Velika said, giving the depth gauge an extra vigorous twirl and letting the chain wrap around her finger until the metal body slapped into her palm. “You’re supposed to be using your new skill. What was it called again?”

“‘Toothsome Scent’, Gigs puffed. “Frost Hounds don’t go for it at all. You’d think hounds would, being hounds, but you never know with monsters. The name doesn’t always match behavior.” He straightened, firming his grip on his weapon and checking the shield strapped to his other arm. “Say, you’ve been around. Do Hounds target the highest threat, or do they go after the perceived weakest enemy?“

“That’s the kind of thing you should ask your Diviner,” Velika said flatly. “Targeting predilection is one of the things Behavioral Insight’s made for.”

“But you know, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t want to spoil his training.” Velika smiled, watching Ruce sprint by in a panic, no less than three of the blue-furred canines pelting after him. She nodded in that direction. “Though really, do you even need to ask if they go for scent? They seem to like his just fine.”

“Damn it!” Gigs swore, hustling back toward the fray.

With a snort, Velika slipped the depth gauge into a pocket of her Ascension cloak. Unlike Ascension’s other notable Turtle and her former fling, Carten, Gigs spread his points across multiple trees rather than focusing on one until he chose his class. As a monolith, he had that luxury, and Tallheart’s equipment compensated for the lack of single-tree specialization. The broad skillset made him arguably more useful than a traditional Turtle at the cost of being entirely dependent upon his teammates.

It was such an Ascension thing to do.

Other than that, though, the man was just so bland. It was no wonder the Hounds weren’t tempted. At least Carten had had some spice—not that it had stayed interesting for long.

Smirking, Velika paused to adjust the blunt blades hanging from her waist. She presently wore only two swords, the first and second. Her other weapons—the two larger blunt blades and her sole remaining sharp one—were over with the supplies. Not even on the chasm floor, where the damage limit rose to something respectable, would those be called for. Even the second sword was overkill. The monsters here were just too weak.

Her smirk became a full smile as she traced a finger along the first sword’s hilt. Tallheart had outdone himself. The blunt blades had withstood every torture she’d put them through, though in the case of her strongest skills, ‘withstood’ meant ‘survived and recovered from’.

The monsters she’d been using as target dummies, not so much.

“Hey!” came a distant cry from Meloni, at the complete opposite end of the shelf, away from the fracas of ongoing combat.

Glancing that way, Velika saw the older woman duck behind the flat boulder she’d been using as a worktable. The Firebolt that went zipping by a moment later came nowhere close to where she’d been standing, roughly splitting the distance between her and their piled supplies.

Sloppy.

Dust whinnied something that might have been an apology, making Velika glance aside to see the horse easily outpacing the Frost Wolf trailing after it. Stint stood atop the horse’s back, windmilling his arms with his longbow gripped in one hand and an arrow in the other. It was clear he didn’t have the stats for the ‘technique’ she’d shown him, his balance and reaction speed insufficient to cope with the animal’s erratic movement, especially with his weak leg.

Hilarious.

What he needed was a shorter, more powerful bow that could be used from the saddle without resorting to such showy nonsense.

Not that the nonsense wasn’t to an end, mind. She’d spent her fair share of time working on similarly unpractical displays herself. They were just the thing for getting used to your new body after a leap in strength. Both Stint and the horse had invested in their physical stats, rounding out their foundations, and the horse had further dipped into the Physicality tree according to his planned build. The practice would do them good.

Velika shook her head, wondering again how it was she’d ended up giving a two-hour lecture on skill selection to a farm animal.

The build they’d settled on was workable, supposing the creature stuck to it. Even without a rider, the combination of high-speed movement and ranged magic would make for an annoying combatant, able to harry opponents while remaining untouched.

With Stint and his bow thrown into the mix, she couldn’t think of a single thing that would be more infuriating to deal with for anyone unable to run the pair down. The Warden’s ghost had even coughed up an obscure class suitable for the animal, Vigor Mage, which let stamina stand in for mana under certain circumstances, though again, whether the ridiculous, fire-obsessed beast would be able to stick to the plan long enough to unlock it was an open question.

“Sixty percent right!” Ruce cried out of nowhere.

Velika turned, seeing the three Hounds still after the Diviner. Ruce dove left in accordance with his call, and seemingly to spite him, the lead Frost Hound darted the same way at the same time. Its teeth were stopped from snapping shut on the Diviner’s neck by a rippling distortion in the air—though not completely. Rain had his magic set to let some damage through.

“Ahhhh!” Ruce cried, punching at the animal latched onto him.

Gigs finally arrived, bowling over the Frost Hound with a shield rush, only to be swallowed in a spray of icy flakes as one of the other Hounds released its breath attack over the whole area.

Velika shook her head.

The horse wasn’t much dumber than the others, really. You never committed unless you were sure. Six in ten was not sure. And now Gigs needed saving too.

Fingering the hilt of her first sword, she turned calmly in that direction, but Val and Mereck got there first. Val spread his fingers, and webs of sticky white light sprayed over the literal dogpile, the threads anchoring themselves to the ground. Light Web was the spell name, as she recalled.

Mereck spread his hands too, blasting the whole area with Healing Wave. The magic manifested as a wind of green sparks, erasing lacerations and returning color to frozen flesh.

The Hounds were healed too, of course.

The AOE spell was notorious for its unsuitability for melee combat. Here, though, that was likely what Mereck was after. There were only four wolves left now, after the fifth had gone toppling over the edge, and she wasn’t about to get them more.

By the rules, the mission was already over. She should have been taking them back already so she could pick up another group.

Velika smirked, watching as Val and Mereck attempted to free their companions from the pile, aided by the Light Magic threads dissolving in contact with Gigs’ armor.

Ascension would get its silvers. It just wouldn’t be these eight. Not anytime soon. They’d have to wait their turn again.

Sharing sucks.

Nim anxiously worried the hem of her shirt as she stared up at the banners hanging to either side of the door. Each bore the same symbol on a field of white, the crown of a planet below a stylized arrow seeking the heavens.

“We are here with express permission from the Entente,” Mlemlek said. “Respectfully, the Foundry has no authority to demand anything from us.”

There was a rustle of paper before Jien spoke again. “It is by the will of the Entente that you are expelled.”

Mlemlek spoke, paper rustling again. “What is this?”

“The way business is conducted,” Lord Jien replied. “Leave.”

“We have a team in the Delving,” Mlemlek said sharply. “We can’t just go. Furthermore, you have no legal basis to force us, let alone claim our property. How in Dystees’ name do you claim to justify—“

“I owe you no justification,” Lord Jien interrupted. “I came here personally only to take the measure of the organization which has appeared to annoy me.” There was a long pause. “I am...disappointed.”

“You can’t do this,” Mlemlek said.

How is he still speaking? I can barely breathe.

“Another phrase I have not heard in a long time,” Lord Jien said with amusement.

Without warning, the pressure bearing down on her doubled, crushing the air from her lungs and paralyzing them in place.

“Out. Now.”

Not a shred of levity remained in Jien’s tone. There were a number of thumps as others in the room collapsed under the unfathomable weight.

“Lord Jien, please,” Legruz said, his own voice strained. “How do you expect them to go if they cannot even move? Look at them!”

“Silence,” Jien said. “You should not speak when you are the one who brought this upon them.”

“Me?” Legruz said, incredulous.

Nim tried to whimper, stars returning to her vision as she desperately strained for air.

“The Illuminators operate in this city at the pleasure of the Great Houses, as does Lightcore,” Jien said over the rising ringing in her ears. “Your unauthorized dealings threaten the tenuous balance we have achieved, and you will be called to account for that soon enough.“

“ENOUGH!” cried a new voice, and hope exploded in Nim’s heart.

First Mora!

In an instant, the pressure was gone, and Nim inhaled, sprawling bonelessly on the floor as blessed air rushed into her lungs. She heard the others similarly gasping, but it was the wave of heat that washed over her that made her open her eyes.

“Asshole!”

Nim stared agog, seeing the young girl standing atop the counter with her finger pointed accusingly at Lord Jien. Then, to leave no doubt as to what had just happened, another Firebolt began forming at her fingertip before Mlemlek caught her arm.

“Ava, stop!” he shouted urgently, the magic shooting off to scorch the floor as he wrestled her down from the counter.”

Lord Jien blinked—utterly unharmed of course—then a predatory smile spread across his face. “Ha! Perhaps I am not so disappointed after all.”

“Lord Jien, you are WAY out of line!” Mora yelled from behind Jien’s bulky form, unable to enter the crowded room past him. “You got what you wanted, but this is an Entente matter now! Why are you even here?”

“He tried to take their stuff,” Estez interjected, standing by the counter. He waved a scrap of paper in the air. “This doesn’t say anything about property. It bars them from operating a facility in the city, but that’s it.”

“Come on, get up,” Legruz said, hooking a hand under Nim’s armpit. “You’re stronger than this. You’re embarrassing me in front of the people.”

Pitterpatter meowed behind her as she accepted her mentor’s help.

“Fine,” Jien snapped after working his jaw in annoyance. He turned, practically walking over Mora as he negotiated his way through the too-small door. “I leave this business with you, First. It now bores me.”

“Kid’s right,” said the uniformless Ascension employee. His voice trembled, and he spat, his crimson blood spattering the stones. “Fucking asshole. Made me bite my tongue.”

“I’m sorry about this,” Mora said, entering the room.

Now that Jien had gone, the space felt dim. The Light Plates looked burned out, though they hadn’t even been active. The two strange lamps might have been dimmer than they’d been before, or it could have just been her eyes. That they’d survived when the plates had failed was impressive, regardless.

“It is not your fault, First Mora,” Mlemlek said tiredly. “Steeve, there is a healing potion under the counter. It’s yours to use.” He turned to Mora again. “How long do we have?”

“Until nightfall,” Mora said. “I’d say less if you don’t want him to show up again with explicit permission to steal all your stuff. Don’t worry about your team. We know they’re down there, and we’re already looking for them. Again, I’m sorry.”

“I must consult with our captain,” Mlemlek said. “Please excuse me.”

“Consult how?” Legruz asked with sudden excitement. “You have a way to speak with him from here? Marvelous!”

Having regained a measure of her strength, Nim reversed her grip on the arm supporting her. “Stop. Let’s get out of their way.”

“But they clearly need my—“

“You’re making it worse,” Nim interrupted. “The asshole was right about that much.”

Legruz looked at her like he’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said,” Nim replied. “If you want them to take us with them when they go, shut up. Just shut up. For once.”

Pitterpatter meowed in agreement, then, surprising even Nim, headbutted Legruz back before grasping him in her mouth.

“Hey!” Legruz protested as the cattipede wormed for the door, taking the squirming Illuminator with her. “Ow! Ow! Ow! You’re tearing my jacket! Gah! The drool!”

Hundreds of kilometers away, Rain leaned forward to bridge his hands.

“Oh, it is on.”