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The Gamer Chapter 1592 – Chivalrous 1 – To the Alpine Knights
🕑 Added 2024-01-03 10:55:31 +0000 UTC
John re-read the Quest, just to make sure that this should work out.
“Are you certain that this is all you need, Master?” Aclysia asked, looking sceptically at the small backpack at his feet. It contained spare changes of underwear and socks, basic hygiene articles, and basically nothing else. “Such scarce inventory is unbecoming of a man of your stature.”
“That’s kind of the point,” John reminded her. “I’m already stretching this by bringing her.” He gestured towards Ehtra, who stood there, eyes closed, tapping the back of her heel on the ground in a thoroughly impatient way. The only reaction she had to being mentioned was to deepen her sneer and click her tongue. “Plus, we both know I’m bringing more than they allowed.”
Aclysia let out a deep sigh, fingers pinching the fabric of his mundane t-shirt. His usual top was, among the rest of his battle regalia, in his inventory. He was supposed to bring nothing of value along, but there was no way he would go anywhere without assurances. That was the same reason why the Ambassador Double would stay. Should he be unable to type out a message over the Harem Comms, his second body could still alert everyone to teleport over.
Annoyingly, he would have to unsummon his elementals. He was not allowed to keep them around incorporeally and they could not operate at large enough a range for them to be tethered to him. He could tether them to the double, but at that point their teleports wouldn’t work anyway, so it was kind of useless. They had agreed that they would all go home for three days. A rolled up summoning circle in his inventory would have to do in an emergency.
All of this was his paranoia manifesting. The Alpine Knights were an old and venerated institution, by Rex Germaniae standards. That made them not that old by the standards of the broader Abyss, a ‘mere’ 800 years, but definitely venerated.
Lydia had personally picked them. They were close to Milan, the second largest city in Abyssal Italy, and his stay was neither public nor long. Nothing should be happening there.
“Still, are you certain no one should be accompanying you?” Aclysia asked. “The nights will be lonely.”
“Again, that’s kind of the point.” John put a hand on Aclysia’s head, trailed around the base of her horn, and combed through her silky, straight hair. “I’ll be fine. It’s three days.”
“But, Master…” Aclysia whined, “…what if I’m not fine?”
“Then I will tear through heaven and hell to make sure you are,” he assured her in a soft tone. He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Now go. You have work to do.”
Pouting, the first maid did what was asked regardless and took a step back. She looked over her shoulder one last time, before vanishing inside the building. The rest of the harem had said their goodbyes over breakfast.
“Alright, let’s go,” John told Ehtra and began walking towards the teleporter.
He stopped suddenly when the grey angel grabbed him by the back of his shirt. “You’re a casual trickster,” she stated. It was an insult, although not a grave one. She opened her eyes, focusing on him with casual annoyance. Funnily enough that did not make those emerald orbs any less attractive, just a little fearsome.
‘God, I love dangerous women,’ John thought. “What do you mean?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I won’t refute the reputation, it’s a useful one to have, but I’m not aware of what specifically you’re talking about.”
Ehtra tilted her head. Moving her lips quietly, she repeated to herself each word that he had just said. “I taste no lie,” she stated. “So this isn’t one of the ways you betray this agreement…” She yanked John back, gave him the once over, then shoved her hand into the pocket of his jeans.
It was quite forward behaviour and it made sense the moment she pulled her hand back. Pinched between her fingers was a small spider of black and red. The tiny thing collapsed into ash and mana particles after a few seconds of exposure to the sunlight. The bloodstream it turned into dripped into Ehtra’s shadow.
The vengeful angel created a tiny javelin between index finger and thumb. The pale, greyish blue projectile was thrown with a flick of her wrist, fully eliminating Claire’s little spy. “You’re shrouded in little lies.” Ehtra crossed her arms underneath her large breasts. “It is difficult to make out which are yours and which latch on to you.”
John took the criticism in stride and sighed. “I’m trying to be an honourable person.”
“You’re failing,” Ehtra pointed out.
“I like being alive more than being exactly true to my word.” John waited for a second, then presented a question, “Do you not at least have to agree that it’s honourable that I let you and everyone speak as freely as I do?”
“Ever heard of Elagabalus?” Ehtra asked.
“Roman Emperor in the third century, utter degenerate, insane egomaniac, was killed by the people of Rome and thrown into the Thebes after four years of humiliating governance,” John summarized. “Are you insinuating I’m like him?”
“I haven’t worked out yet whether you let the people talk because you respect criticism or because you like humiliation.”
John’s gaze turned dark. “Then you haven’t been paying attention.”
Although Ehtra stood her ground and kept her sneer, John did notice a swift rise and fall of her grey feathers. As the lover of a harpy, he understood the wing equivalent of goosebumps. ‘I’ll take that as a win,’ he thought and took a step back, to put some distance between them. When he spoke again, he did it in a softer tone.
“You’re correct in telling me that I’m not doing the most honourable thing I can. I’ll always concede that point. As I said, I like being alive more than being trustworthy without a fault.” He shrugged and stepped onto the portal. “I am shrouded in little lies, as you say. I’d like to live in a world where I don’t have to but-”
“-this world is fallen,” Ehtra finished for him, staring out to the Guild Hall. “We all live imperfect lives.”
“Precisely.”
Ehtra’s scowl grew a little stronger. She flipped back one of her two smaller side braids, before stepping onto the teleporter. The blue glow enveloped them both, while John studied the profile of her face. The First of Hatred was an interesting riddle to him, so critical and yet so reasonable.
He had to put this thought on hold. The air around them changed, the heat of the Guild Hall replaced with that of Berlin. Besides being inland, pushing the humidity down, the eight-hour time difference also massively shifted things around.
Sadly, he wasn’t greeted by Lydia. The queen had promised she would try, but promises to try were just that. When Lydia did not have the time, she did not have the time. Instead, he was greeted by one of the many servants of the Hohenzollern estate. John knew the man almost as much as most of his own ministers. Whether that was a statement about how much time he spent visiting Lydia or how little he spent with his ministers, one could argue about.
“Her highness has ordered me to take you to the airport, Mister President,” the older man stated with a little bow.
“With any luck, you can call me ‘Sir’ soon,” John joked.
“I believe that may do as a transitory title, before the marriage is in place,” the butler stated with that particular bit of freedom only veteran servants in reasonable, noble estates got. It wasn’t any greater kind of freedom, in many cases it was quite limited, but it was an interesting flavour of it that required a hierarchical society like Rex Germaniae to exist.
John did not miss it in Fusion, neither would he be opposed to pockets of it surfacing in certain households, he just found it entertaining to observe.
The route was swiftly explained. They would drive to the airport, take a Mobile Barrier flight to Milan, then drive from there to the edge of the Alpine Knight’s territory. The trip would take roughly two hours in total. After that, they would continue on foot. John expected to arrive in the stronghold mid afternoon.
Once they were in the car, a suitably large jeep, John was back to studying Ehtra. The First of Hatred, for her part, was studying the car. She did not do anything quite as entertaining as jump when the engine started, but she was rather fascinated with her environment.
“Craftsmanship has increased tremendously since I was last active,” she stated, hand gliding over the rich leather of the seat. Lydia had changed all of the seats in the cars she used over time, for obvious reasons.
“You’re pretty when you’re not scowling,” John couldn’t help but say.
Ehtra immediately shot him a glare. “Degenerate,” she cussed him out, “is lust the only emotion you ever cater to?”
“Sometimes I just make genuine compliments.” John put his elbow on the table that separated them. A sovereign’s private car was always luxurious, even if this was only the secondary vehicle of Lydia’s choice. Using the stretch limo for him and Ehtra would have been a bit much… and he was certain the queen was currently using it herself. “How did you know about Elagabalus? Did you work for him?”
Ehtra blew air out of her nose. “Thankfully not. The… I hesitate to call him a man….” The First of Hatred paused for a few moments, then shook her head. “The creature was wrapped in more lies and deceit than I could stomach. I found myself contracted to an influential member of the senate at the time.” She stopped for a moment. “I helped him distinguish friend from foe. One day, he invited me to his bed. When I refused, he became pushy. I rebuked him harshly. He decided to lock me away for the insult. He ended up killed in the riot that saw the creature itself deposed.”
“Do you think that was justice?” John asked, simply curious. “For the people to murder their emperor like that?”
“Yes.” The harsh and immediate answer was intriguing. Silence coaxed her justification out of the First of Hatred. “There is only so much a people need to endure. A ruler is sovereign through might or wisdom. They can have both, they require one, they can never have neither. Four years was too good for him.”
John did not agree or disagree with that notion. He just found it interesting to listen to her. The car rolled on. Ehtra tapped the tinted window with the first joint of her middle finger. She stared at her tits when a bump in the road made them bounce. Then she glared at him, as if that was his fault. The Gamer still wasn’t sure whether it was. It could be, but it wouldn’t have been the first contradiction the grey angel presented to him.
Especially since she was still wearing the maid uniform.
“You’re able to tell lies more acutely than I thought.” John changed the topic. “The description just told me you’re able to notice traitors.”
“There is no such thing as innocence,” Ehtra stated, and frowned when he laughed. “What amuses you now.”
“It’s just that your entire existence seems to be an accidental reference,” the Gamer told her. “I’m overplaying, of course. It’s just that you accidentally said something word for word from a piece of fiction I am quite fond of. Continue.”
“All of man is steeped in lies,” Ehtra explained to him. “All have betrayed expectations and agreements given. Admittedly, this power you have…” she searched for the right word. “…gifted me, graciously, has made the sense more acute. I can sift through the layers more accurately now. I spent yesterday testing this extensively.”
“Are you able to sense what someone did?” John asked.
Lady Vengeance shook her head. “I sense the depth of sin accumulated and the treacherous intentions harboured at the current time. A sense that gets muddled in crowded places.” Ehtra gave him a weary, long look. “This ability is what you had me tag along for, is it not?”
“Believe it or not, but I’m actually not that interested in it,” John told her.
Ehtra seemed genuinely surprised, especially after he let her have a peek into his thoughts to assure her of the truth of those words. “I do not understand you, creature of contradictions,” she stated, flabbergasted. “Paranoid, yet allowing freedoms. Haunted, yet stepping into danger. Your arms are weak, yet the Breaker of Armies loves you.”
“I accept that the consequence of freedom and of choices is risk and danger. As for Metra, I can be quite charming.” John shrugged and leaned back. “Before you think too highly of me, the reason I don’t have too much use for you is that I have a powerful seer on my side that can also read emotions. Your ability has its applications, no doubt, especially since it’s attached to you, a powerful fighter, while she is rather incapable in that regard. Still, I simply have better means of assurance.”
The explanation did put a neutral expression on Ehtra’s face. “At least you’re a little bit of what I expected.”
“That does bring me to a question I was wondering about: how are you doing?”
This was the first question Ehtra did not answer immediately. She turned her head and looked out of the window. The buildings outside were of an Enlightenment period style. To John, that put them on the border between old and modern. It was a building style he found aesthetically pleasing. What was old to him, however, was just one layer of new to Ehtra.
“Fine,” she answered finally.
John waited for more. When nothing came, he asked, “Fine?”
Ehtra shot him an enigmatic glance. Whether she was annoyed by his attention or appreciative of it, she continued, “Your capital is an interesting place. The people see this…” she tugged at the string that connected the choker of the uniform to the chest piece, “…as a sign of respect.”
“Does that feel ridiculous?” John asked.
Ehtra let out an amused snort. “I have seen men march into battle wearing codpieces three times as large as their actual manhood. You think a largely practical set of garments would meet my definition of ridiculous? Even if I needed to breathe, I could in this corset.” The First of Hatred’s voice reduced to a mumble. “Humans so often make the mistake that we think we are the first to think like this. Do we claim that such impulses just suddenly manifested in us without precedent? Impudent assumption… Nothing is ever new. At best it is bigger. Usually, it is smaller… much smaller…”
Out of the corner of her eye, Ehtra stared at him for a few seconds. She did not blush, she did not move at all, besides a single blink. She had meant for him to hear that. What he did with it, he wasn’t sure yet.
Their conversation was interrupted by them arriving at the airport.
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