2.30 In Which the Dark Lord Gets His Hands Dirty

2.30 In Which the Dark Lord Gets His Hands Dirty

I didnt know why the experience left me so out of sorts, which only made it worse.

The Spirits revelation about the goddesses was Well, upon due consideration, not much of anything, really. Sure, I didnt know the tidbit that all past Heroes and Dark Lords were Japanese, but in hindsight it felt like there were enough hints I shouldve put this together on my own. Worse than that, I cringed at the memory of how Id reacted. Ive always been a mouthy person with a penchant for spectacle, true, but I couldnt recall having had a shouting meltdown like that since being potty trained. And was the cause really sufficient to justify the tantrum?

Yes and no, I eventually decided. The news was bad and I was fully justified in being enraged at it. Even so, the way I cracked in response had at least as much to do with my own mental state as learning the uncomfortable truth.

Ephemera was wearing me down.

Aster and Nazralind had been standing guard outside the Spirits abode and had pressing questions about the muffled yelling theyd heard, plus the blood on my knuckles. I did not have the mental energy to get into it at that moment and fended them off with a brusque reassurance that all was well.

That did not seem to satisfy, but they agreed to let it be after I overheard Aster muttering to Nazralind that I was the last person to be shy about complaining if something were really wrong. I didnt even have the leftover brainpower to be offended. Anyway, it wasnt like she was wrong.

Fortunately our next steps didnt require much detailed input from me. Saying a quick farewell to the Yviredhswho as nobles were doubtless accustomed to more ceremony but equally doubtless were glad enough to see me leave that they took no offenseand then shepherding our forces to the site of the bandit encampment next on our list didnt take long and Aster took the lead with no trouble.

That, at least, gave me a few hours to simmer as we moved carefully but quickly through the khora. I was feeling more even-keeled by midmorning, when we had reason to stop. Doubtless the walk helped; as Id repeatedly had cause to observe, walking through nature was therapeutic, even when the nature is weird and youre walking because of urgent murder business.

Anything?

Im keeping an eye on em, boss, said Biribo, so to speak. Theyre moving around but not leaving the camp. Im pretty sure right now one guys making lunch, so odds are if we give it a couple minutes we can take em distracted while they eat.

Isnt it a bit early for lunch?

Breakfast then? Theres four of em. How much of a schedule did you keep at North Watch before you had to organize over a hundred people?

Point. I nodded, then glanced aside at Nazralind, who along with Aster was standing with me a couple of meters distant from the group. She nodded back and turned to step over to the rest of our team and convey Biribos information.

This was much more complicated than ambushing camps in the middle of the night, when everybody was asleep. Granted, if it came to a straight figh my people could overwhelm the bandits easily due to our advantage in numbers, skill, and weaponry, but that would defeat the purpose. The camp itself was useless and would be abandoned immediately; we needed the people. That meant we needed to take them alive. That meant leveraging our goblin alchemy and the element of surprise, which meant picking the right opportunity to strike. And anyway, even if it wasnt strictly necessary in this particular moment, I wanted my people in the habit of leaning on subtlety and stealth tactics. We were just not the kind of force that would ever beat a proper army in a straight-up fight, and I didnt want them to get killed later on by making that mistake.

Brunch was as good a distraction as any. We could make all kinds of distractions, but that would both use stocks of our extremely valuable alchemy supplies and create a more volatile situation. I much preferred taking them while they were quiet, focused on food, and not expecting trouble.

So for a few minutes at least, there was nothing to do but wait. Aster took a step away from me, not really creating much space between us but just finding a spot where she could sit on an outcropping of khora root, propping her greatsword against the trunk beside her. I folded my arms, staring into the dimness beneath the fronds in the general direction of the bandit camp. And, finally, since I had the time, decided to do what I probably should have immediately after my visit to the Spirit. This was the first moment sense that I felt calm enough to properly focus on it.

Casting spells had become such a nearly automatic process that I had to actively concentrate to hold myself in that pre-casting state, in which it was as if my consciousness had an extra layer added. I could still perceive the world around me, but superimposed on that was the sphere of light in which I stood, covered with shimmering, inscrutable symbols arranged in patterns that reminded me at times of written language, and at times of computer code. Usually just holding the block of thought that was a spell in the front of my mind didnt require enough focus to bring up all this.

Now, I summoned Cast Illusion into my consciousness and just studied it. Immediately the first things I discerned were the huge gaps in the spell code, and the fact that itfelt wrong. I couldnt actually cast it. Normally, activating a spell felt like reaching out with my mind to push it into reality; trying to do that with Cast Illusion felt like I was shoving a concrete pillar.

Hey, Biribo, I said quietly, the Spirit said to ask you about this new spell. How come it doesnt work?

Aster looked up at me, her eyebrows rising. Newwait, you won the Spirits trial?

Yeah, I got a spell and a Wisdom unlock.

The eyebrows came back down, and then together. Then why were you so angry?

I got somenews. About the goddesses, I hedged.

She straightened up expectantly.

Look, its not good, and its not anything we can do anything about. Its just enraging and would require me to explain a whole mess of Earth culture for you to understand, so can we not? The goddesses are assholes, lets leave it at that. Anyway, Biribo?

Cast Illusion is a multiple-iteration spell, my familiar explained now that the peanut gallery was silent enough for him to talk. Meaning you can actually have as many copies of this spell as you can find scrolls of it.

Neat! Butwhy? And fucking how?

Because for each copy of the spell you can cast one illusion. Once you decide what illusion you want to use, this spell will enable you to cast that illusion and that one only, forever. You want a new illusion, you need a new Cast Illusion scroll.

Fuckin annoying, I grumbled, my eyes going out of focus as I stared at the huge empty spots in the spell code, but explains some things. Hmso this wont even be usable until I pick an illusion. Any limitations on what that can be?

Anything you can visualize, boss.

I grudgingly admitted (silently, to myself) that limiting it to one illusion per copy of the spell made sense for balance reasons. This would be insanely OP, nearly on the level of Null and Heal, if you could just conjure up an image of anything you could think of from one scroll.

I get why the Spirit advised me to sit on it for a while.

Yeah, theres a running joke about this spell in particular in sorcery circles, boss. Novice Blessed who dont know what it is will pick up the scroll, then test it out by making a pink crawn or a naked girl to get a feel for it, and thenNew novel chapters are published on

Oof, Aster winced.

I nodded sagely, not saying aloud that if I didnt have a familiar to explain things to me Id probably have been stuck forever with an illusory Stratocaster. And that other spell it told me to look for. Conjure Material?

That one is also multi-iteration, Biribo said. Does just what it sounds like: you can create a physical material, one per copy of the spell you have, amount depending on the strength of your Blessing. That ones an alchemy spell.

That caught my attention. Alchemy spell? Wait, there are whole spells for that?

Sure, said Aster with a shrug. At the most basic, an alchemist is just an apothecary who works with magical ingredients, right? All the good ones are Blessed, but you dont have to be to mix up bits of monsters and whatnot. Like our goblin buddy Youda, or that girl with the outrageous hair who hangs around the Hero.

I nodded, pondering. I knew that monsters were effectively just magical animals from Biribos explanation of my own Spirit Bond spell; it was meant to give the caster access to whatever magical ability a given monster might have. Id found no use for it except as a component of Enjoin. I guess actual monsters werent all that common.

An alchemist can be Blessed with Might, Biribo continued with the hint of annoyance he always showed when somebody else took over explaining anything to me, there are artifacts for that specifically, but most of them go for a Blessing of Magic. Lots of spells are useful to alchemists, and theres a whole category that are only useful for doing alchemy.

Oh, now that was a helpful Spirit, I breathed, realization dawning. Cast Illusion combined with Conjure Material

A solid illusion! Aster grinned in vicarious delight. Youd basically be able to create an actual, physical copy of whatever you could imagine!

I began pacing in the cleared area around me. It was really too small for that, but I had to do something to work off this sudden surge of nervous energy. What would be the limitations of that, Biribo? Could I only make one at a time? Could it be banished as well as created? What aboutif it was something that needed fuel or ammunition, how would that work?

See! Cwydar insisted.

Any comments from you lot? I inquired. I gather our man here is not popular even among his current circle.

Shes got the right of it, said the woman, jerking her head toward Jadrin. Cwydars a mean asshole, is all. Dunno if hes got any problems with women, exactly. He never tried to paw me or any of the girls who were here before the Olumnach people took em into the Gutters. Least, not that I know of.

In a small group alone in the forest, you notice whos like that, added Radon. We did have a couple of those, but they got taken to town. Cwydars got problems with everybody, but I dunno if Id say he beats on women moren the usual.

More than the usual, Kastrin spat, raising her crossbow. Adelly pushed it back down and Radon cringed, trying to duck his head as best he could while tied hand and foot.

Cwydar just seethed in silence now, apparently unsure how to properly support this decidedly lukewarm defense.

Everyone was staring at me expectantly, Menytin insistently so. I made a show of calm considerationarched eyebrow, head tilted back, lips just slightly pursed. Dont worry, Lord Seiji is totally in control. It was, after all, still showtime, and I had more than enough stage experience to feign composure when some unexpected disaster had me inwardly shrieking obscenities.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

What the hell was I supposed to do about this? I had only just now realized how glassy-smooth the path had been up to this point, so much so that I suspected Virya mightve had a hand in it, though I couldnt see exactly how. With the first gang, there had been some among the convicted and killed whod protested, but they were overshadowed by What was that guys name, the strangler? Well, it didnt really matter anymore. I suspected he had fallen into banditry due to being too dim to function in normal society. And then thered been Freebie Guy just this morning, who had clearly been so accustomed to getting by on his charming smile that he had failed to realize the danger even as he condemned himself with his own mouth. Through all of them, and uncountable assholes Id met previously in the Gutters, there ran this undercurrent of contempt for women and particularly prostitutes that seemed to make people blithely dismiss violence against the Alley Cats. Even when facing down a crowd of said Alley Cats, obviously angry and heavily-armed. It seemed like it just didnt occur to them that beating up prostitutes was objectionable.

What was a whore worth, after all?

Those previous encounters suddenly felt like theyd been softballed to me by a benevolent (or at least maliciously playful) deity. It had always been just a matter of time until I had to deal with a guy whose accused crimes werent so cut and dried, and who had the basic sense to deny it and argue for himself. Man, in hindsight those other two had been really stupid. Sure, lots of people were stupid, but I had royally fucked up by assuming was always gonna be that simple.

Everyone was still staring at me, practically breathless with anticipation. I slowly tilted my head to one side, drawing out the tension, part of me relishing in the spectacle and attention even as a bigger part frantically flailed for a solution.

This was fundamentally not the same as the abusers Id made a show of cutting down, to earn loyalty points. It was a dipshit with anger issues who had committed one accused crime of temperaccused by only one person, who had only seen the aftermath, and corroborated only by negative character witnesses. This was just straight up not enough evidence to convict him in any court worthy of the name. And even if convicted, the reasonable punishment was a lot lighter than the only thing I was in a position to inflict. He was indisputably an asshole who belonged in jail, sure, but after a proper trial.

Jails and trials were things I did not have. And as Id told everyone often enough, I came promising vengeance, not justice.

That, I realized, was the worst part. Because I had known immediately what I was going to do, and known that it was not going to be the right thing. But I was going to do it anyway, because it was what I needed to resolve this situation, and all my mental struggling right now was just a futile effort to escape the corner Id painted myself into without adding yet another unforgivable crime to my conscience.

And I couldnt. I could not do what was right, what was just, because I needed the loyalty of these women above all. I needed the fear of these bandits in the short term; actual loyalty in the long would be ideal, but I could make do with fear. A sacrifice had to be made.

God damn it.

I drew my sword.

No, fuck you, Cwydar rasped, glaring baleful hatred up at me.

I will not condemn a man based on nothing but one accusation, I stated in a ringing tone. A life is too much to squander for a matter of one persons word against anothers. An accusation with only indirect corroboration is stilltenuous.

Menytin opened her mouth, swelling up in outrage, and Adelly clamped a hand on her shoulder, silencing her.

But Ive made myself clear, I stated, pointing the sword at Cwydar and staring down the blade at him. Abusers of women are not suffered under my rule. Hopefully someday well have a system to properly administer justicebut lets face, Fflyr Dlemathlys has never had one of those. Here I have a credible accusation, multiple corroborating character witnesses, and not one voice raised in support of the accused.

You cant do this, you asshole! he snarled, struggling again.

Its a tough call, I said, my demeanor as icy and merciless as I could make it, but its my call and Ive made it. When the victim is unwilling or unable to raise their own hand, or not present to do so, vengeance is mine to dispense.

Cwydar tried to surge to his feet, struggling violently against the ropes binding him, and lasted barely a second. The Mastery enchantment did exactly what the name promised: with the rapier in my hand, I was a master fencer. I stepped forward in a laser-precise lunge, the tip of the blade sinking right through his left eye and deep into his skull. It was as easy as strumming a chord on my guitar.

I stepped back and flicked the blade hard, splattering the ground with gore, as Cwydar slumped back down. He twitched a few more times before falling still.

For two beats, I let the silence hang before speaking in utter nonchalance.

Any other accusations, ladies?

A few glances were exchanged and heads shaken. I panned a calm stare around the assembled group, then nodded when no one else stepped up.

Good. Always a relief when most of a group is worth saving. Welcome to the Dark Crusade, my new friends.

Ah, fuck, mumbled the woman in the group, then flinched in clear terror when my gaze landed on her directly. I just gave her a smile. I mightve ordinarily gone for a more mischievous note, but I wasnot in the mood.

Nazralind, get everybody on their feet and organized; I want this place packed up and on the move in half an hour, tops. Adelly, interview our new comrades and find me a location for our next target.

Hai! Adelly chimed, already stepping forward alongside Naz to carry out my orders.

Even she was doing it now. Figured the highly social noblewomen were the most attuned to cultural cues and the fastest to pick up on new customs, but once they started mimicking me, the rest immediately began joining in. It stood to reason that sex workers would also be very perceptive and good at mirroring.

While the camp shifted into a rush of activity, my followers streaming forward to sort through the bandits supplies, I stepped backward twice, to the edge, and then turned around to wipe my sword carefully on a low-hanging khora frond. It tried to twitch out of my graspwhatever they were, khora were not exactly plantsbut not very hard.

Putting my back to the camp gave me a moment in which I didnt have to control my expression. Just a moment was all I needed. It couldnt be all showtime all the time.

Aster stepped up beside me and surreptitiously touched me once on the upper arm as I re-sheathed the cleaned blade.

It had to be done, she murmured.

I shook my head. It did not have to be done. I had to do it. Those might have the same end effect, but they arevery different.

She regarded me in silence for a moment, then nodded once and watched the ongoing preparations along with me. Her own advice from what felt like years ago hung heavy in the air.

Whenever you can, be kind.

I tried, butat what point was there just no point anymore? There was already no amount of kindness that would compensate for all the blood Id spilled. And I was only getting started.

While everybody sorted out the bandits and packed up the camp, not one person so much as touched Cwydars body. Because Id told them at the last camp what my policy was. Those who break my central rules get left for the crawns. And so he was ignored and left there to begin rotting once we were done and gone.

As I had ordered.