Chapter 192: Arlo Xor’Drel, Esquire: Ace Attorney

Chapter 192: Arlo Xor’Drel, Esquire: Ace Attorney

“Excuse me,” I said to a servant who’d paused to listen to the exchange. He was a middle-aged man whose name I’d learned was Eric. He held a tray of chilled drinks that looked delightful. I beckoned him forward, then selected a juicy-looking drink with a skewered melon ball floating at the top. “Thanks, Eric,” I said. I took a sip, reveling in the light, crisp flavor. There was a touch of mint to it that paired well. “This is good. What is this?”

Eric’s eyes drifted to Leon, who was frowning at me, then down to the tray. “That would be the virgin casaba cooler, m’lord.”

I took another sip. It really was good.

“Where ya’ from, Eric?”

“I grew up south of Arsenal, m’lord. I moved to the Ravvenblaq manor twenty years ago, and I’ve lived there since.”

“I went through there once. Didn’t get to spend as much time as I’d like. It’s a pretty diverse area.”

“The city is,” he said. “My hometown’s mostly regular Hiwardians. Arsenal is an easy landmark, but it’s fairly far south of it.”

“How far south of Arsenal?”

“Just on the northern side of the mountains,” he said. “The area was–”

“Master Xor’Drel,” said Leon. He wasn’t quite scowling.

“Feel free to continue, Lord Heronwyte,” I said.

“Continue?” he asked. “Do you intend to avoid the question?”

“Your questions seemed to have taken the form of a speech,” I said, then gestured around with my glass. “You’ve got your audience. Orate to your heart’s content. I’ll wait until you’re done.” I pulled the little skewer from my drink and bit the melon off of it. The fruit was lightly carbonated, which was excellent. I plucked another casaba cooler from the tray. “Sorry for keeping you, Eric.”

“Not at all, m’lord,” Eric said with a short bow. “Anything you need, I’m honored to serve.”

He shot another look at Leon, then meandered back into the crowd. I’d have to remember to catch that guy later so he could finish his sentence. I’d also tip the hell out of him for his trouble since I’d roped him into my mess. A touch of time to collect myself and reset the momentum of the conversation had been needed, and grabbing a drink was the best I could come up with. Hopefully, it didn’t cause Eric any trouble down the line.

I looked at Leon expectantly and gestured for him to continue. Lord Heronwyte’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

“The introduction of seven new Creation Delves injects chaos not just into Hiward, but into the world at large,” said Leon. “Hiward has ensured peace across the continent for the better part of a century through economic superiority and strength of arms. Half of our treaties are built upon the exchange of Creation slots. Nations refrain from war out of fear of our intervention or being cut off from our supply of mana chips and magical items.

“Now, Hiward’s bargaining power has been gutted. Our military advantage is threatened. The rest of the continent will soon be on the precipice of all-out war over these new Creation Delves. These are very real consequences. Certain consequences. Your justification for this chaos is that it might help in the fight against the avatars, and I say that’s not good enough. Even if your theory proves true, it will be of no use when the continent is mired in bloodshed as the avatars strike.”

I had to give it to Lord Heronwyte, he knew how to build up a head of steam. He was impassioned, but measured. He spoke not just to me, but to everyone in the room. He varied his tempo and hammered his inflection on certain words, demanding the attention of his audience.

How best to respond to this?

“We’re already at war, Lord Heronwyte,” I said, speaking softly to cut through the heat of the man’s bluster. “Orexis threatened the entire northern half of the Ravvenblaq Thundry. Orexis killed one of your Thundralkes right in front of me. A Level 21 platinum, skewered on an obelisk as easily as the fruit in this drink.” I held up my second cooler, rotating to give everyone a good look. I paused, holding it out to a woman who stood behind me. She accepted it after a moment of hesitation, thankfully. It was hard to look serious while double-fisting.

“The Duckgriens could not kill Orexis, you’re correct there,” I continued. “No offense meant, Matriarch, Patriarch.” I nodded to the Duckgrien couple, who’d joined Ealdric to watch the show. The bare skin and fur combo the Level 52 Delvers normally wore had been replaced with more formal wear. Now it was a bare skin and finery combo. They were both still half-naked. Sineh also stood beside them, the first time I’d seen her unglued from Varrin’s side.

“Fak off,” said Matriarch Duckgrien. “We could barely scratch ‘im. Keep going.”

I gave a small bow in appreciation, then continued. “Orexis isn’t even a full avatar on his own. He’s a bonded pair with his sister, Anesis. Without her, he’s weakened, and she’s out there with him now, along with who knows how many other avatars. If Hiward’s highest-level Delvers can’t beat half of an avatar, then who else is there? No one. None of that is speculation.

“Hiward is at the pinnacle of Delver power in this world, and your Kingdom barely avoided disaster. What of the nations without such advantages? Will Hiwardian Delvers spread out to defend the entire continent? You can’t. There aren’t enough of you. Orexis destroyed Canotha before Hiward even knew what was happening. A hundred thousand people, dead in one night. Timagrin deserves to be able to defend itself, and their new Creation Delve will give them twenty times more Delvers to do so.

“You’re also right that it takes time for a Delver to come into their power, just like it takes time to train a soldier. Just like it takes decades for that soldier to become a general. But no one would refuse to train new soldiers because they’re already at war. That idea’s so dumb it couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with full instructions written on the heel.”

A few people exchanged confused looks at that last bit.

“That’s what they’d say where I’m from, anyway.” I cleared my throat “Maybe a low-level Delver can’t harm an avatar directly, but the avatars don’t fight alone. They create divine spawn. A horde of monstrosities surrounds them wherever they go. And now, Orexis stands at the back of an army of Davahns. An army that slaughters everyone it can find. If history is any guide, once the Davahns are done in Timagrin, Hiward is next.

“We need Delvers with better skills, more passives, and higher levels to fight the avatars. All of that can be gained from the new Delve types. We need more Delvers to cover more ground, put down avatar spawn, and battle the armies that rally behind them. That is made possible by the new Creation Delves.

“You accuse me of speculation, Lord Heronwyte, but your argument is conjecture and fear-mongering. Your military is just as strong, with the tools to become stronger. Your Delvers are just as numerous, with no need to auction away your Creation slots. You’re the experts on Delving, and now there will be eight times as many Delvers to buy your knowledge and bid on your magical exports. Hiward has everything it had last week, and more.

“As for the world suddenly igniting into conflict? No one has issued a declaration of war. If anything, the opposite is true. Eschendur and Litta have an armistice. Peace negotiations are underway, and the phase transition hasn’t changed that. The nations of the world have a common enemy to unite against, and more resources for the fight.

“Hmm, okay. I’m interested to hear what they say. If it helps, at no point did I attempt to subvert Hiward’s entry requirements to the Creation Delve, nor did I participate in any conspiracy to do so.”

Leon’s eyebrow twitched as his truth-seeing ability confirmed my statement. The man apparently fancied himself a private investigator. He was a half-decent squabbler, but he was no Sherlock. Maybe he should have stuck with Intelligence, instead of Charisma.

“Are those records available to the general public?” I asked.

“No,” snapped the rotund man in the crowd. He’d overcome his giggles and was now scowling at Leon.

“Is it a crime to access them without permission?”

“Yes,” said the man.

“I obtained these legally,” said Leon. “No matter. Hognay Haskagander was an associate of Orexis. Later, you were visited in your home by the Artemix group, another group with connections with Orexis. You then called on Low-Lord ‘Typhoon’ Demarsus, yet another associate of Orexis.”

“Visited? Artemix broke in and tried to kidnap me. I killed three of them. Guardian Lito and Dancer Myria invited me to tag along to see Typhoon as part of the investigation into the attempted kidnapping.”

“Two of your current party members were discovered with Typhoon. Xim Xor’Drel and Nuralie Vyxmeldo’a.”

“Yeah, he’d successfully kidnapped them.”

“You then traveled to the Ravvenblaq mountains, where Orexis was in hiding.”

“At Umi-Doo’s request,” I said.

“After Orexis was confronted by Matriarch and Patriarch Duckgrien, you entered Delve 9998: The Cage, alongside a golem created by Orexis.”

“We were forced through the portal,” I said.

“Therein, you conspired with another avatar, known as Fortune.”

“The Delve Core directed us to Fortune, as an emergency measure to contain Orexis.”

“Some hours later, Orexis’s sister, Anesis, was released from her captivity. The avatar Fortune was responsible for extracting her from the Delve.”

“Close enough,” I said. “The guy was a real dick.”

“Throughout this time, your party was still accompanied by the golem created by Orexis.” I furrowed my brow, not liking where this was going. “In fact,” Leon continued, “to this day, you still work alongside that golem. Etja Nothosis, your party’s mage, is a creature created by Orexis to serve his own ends.”

I tossed my drink aside and stepped forward, coming within a few inches of Leon.

“Speak of me all you want,” I said. “Attacking the character of one of my party members while she is absent is in poor taste.”

“Do you deny it?” he asked, half a whisper.

“Etja is one of Orexis’s victims. She has been repeatedly vetted by Central and is, at this very moment, speaking with your king.”

“Everywhere you go, an avatar appears,” said Leon. “You work alongside them. You take their spawn into your party. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were one in here with us. Tell me, what deal did you strike with them? You claim the phase transition is meant to be used against them, but I don’t believe it.”

“You’re spouting baseless conspiracies.”

“Am I?” said Leon. He turned away to face the crowd. “The ring on Master Xor’Drel’s finger was created by an avatar. The necklace around his neck was created by an avatar. And what Master Xor’Drel will not tell you, is that the phase transition empowers the avatars!” He spun on his heel, face dark with anger. “Can you deny it? Can you look these people in the eye and tell them I speak falsely?”

“Where the fuck is this guy getting his information?”

[From what I know of the Heronwyte Matriarch, her information-gathering capabilities are unrivaled. Some of this is contained in the intelligence you have sent along through Varrin, which we have been told is kept confidential, but it is disturbing how much of this was never discussed outside the party.]

“The avatars grow stronger regardless,” I said, “while Delvers stagnate in phase one. It changes the field for both sides, but favors Delvers. That was disclosed in our reports.”

Leon thrust a finger in my direction. “It was divulged only after you’d completed the phase transition,” he said. “Your work was already done, and now you scurry to mask your trail!”

[You should hit him now.]