Bruce_Sentar
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RD 4 Ch 45
🕑 Added 2025-05-23 06:00:08 +0000 UTCCirce stepped into her office, looking absolutely radiant. Her hair was done up with a few strategically placed strands that had escaped to frame her face.
I looked up and over the massive stacks of paper that had begun to drown me at her desk. Once last night I nearly punched a man who came in with a four foot stack and was about to literally dump them on me.
"How did it go, Bran?" she asked, stretching in her barely-there blue silk robe. It wasn't tied tightly, and I could see her lacy underthings peek through.
"I'm getting you an assistant. It'll be my gift to you," I said, sifting through the papers and rubbing the bridge of my nose. I blinked, trying to get my eyes to focus, even as they tried to stage a revolt.
How the heck was this harder than fighting world ending monsters?
"Can’t. Too much of this is sensitive information," Circe said, sitting down. She began to work on a pot of tea.
"You let me look at it," I argued.
"Yeah, but I trust you, Bran. It’s too hard to risk my clan for others who may not have their best interests at heart," she said, beginning to heat the water. She sifted through the cabinets to find loose leaf tea.
"You have to find some way to balance this, Circe. This is truly too much," I gestured at the desk in front of me. "If it's absolutely necessary, we can find someone competent, and I'll etch some inscriptions in them to ensure they can't betray you."
Circe perked up and turned around. "You can do that?" Her eyes were alight at the idea.
"Yes, but I would highly prefer not to, at least not for anyone working for me. I think putting that many restrictions on someone is bound to chafe at their sensibilities and ultimately more likely to lead to betrayal than picking a random person. Of course, the other option is always to split the work up amongst a number of people so they can never put the entire picture together. That does take a little bit of extra coordination," I grumbled, sticking my nose back in the pile of papers.
"You sound like you have more experience organizing people than you led us to believe, Mr. Wandering King," she said, pulling a seat over to sit next to me. “You made it sound like you ran from place to place to avoid being a leader in truth.”
"Just because I move from place to place doesn't mean I didn't have plenty of correspondence and other minutia to manage. Besides I showed up at warfronts months early hundreds of times. In those instances I took up the reins and led for up to a year as they fought back," I glowered at her until it sank in. "Find someone you trust."
"I have," she said, gesturing at the table and then to me with a wink. "My new assistant seems to be doing quite well, if I do say so myself."
I rolled my eyes. "If you think you're going to trap me into being your assistant for any longer than a day, then I've got a bridge to sell you."
Circe puffed her cheeks out. "Rude. And here I thought we were working so fantastically together."
"The question is not if we could work well together, it’s the tasks we choose to tackle together that needs to be evaluated," I said, glancing down at the stacks of paper before me. I split off half a stack and slapped it down in front of her. "Since you're up and I only promised to protect you from your dreaded responsibilities for a night, enjoy."
She made a show of pouting, but she got to work with surprising speed, flipping through the stack of papers, some of which she barely reviewed.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Well, a good number of these people are just going to waste my time," she waved to the ones she had put to the side. "I'm not even going to read those."
My jaw went slack and I stared at her. "And you couldn't have told me that last night?"
"Well, it's a good thing that you went through them. They need to feel heard once in a while," she raised an eyebrow with a quirk of her lips, looking very pleased with herself.
I wanted to strangle the beautiful woman next to me, but instead I let out my frustration with a sigh and gestured to the side of the desk at the stacks of paper that I had completed. "Well, these are done and can be sent off. I'm sure you can at least get someone to send them back to the right person."
"Easy enough," she waved her hand. "It's the decision making that's hard to delegate with confidence." She waved her hand and her magic spun out from her just as the kettle began to scream, scooping it off and pouring it over the tea and into the pot.
I smirked. "You have been working on your control."
"It can be useful," she replied defensively, only to lift the teapot carefully and float it over to the desk we were currently sharing. "Now, what of you and your plans for the day? You said you were going to work on the enchantments?" she asked with barely hidden curiosity.
"Yes, given that you're already visually hiding the islands, I thought some more subtle concealments would be useful. I am thinking about ones that push awareness away, or distort space so that people physically can't find the edge of your barrier," I worked through my thoughts aloud. "I have come to realize that the Demon Lord likely does not know about our little project hiding in my Vein City fortress."
Circe made a long noise of understanding. "And you want to keep awareness away from all of your places as long as possible.”
“That would be ideal.” I nodded. "Of course, the Heros Clan would get the same treatment.”
“Well then, I'll have you to myself at least for a couple of days. I've even managed somehow to separate you from the rest of your entourage." She gestured at the room that failed to contain Simone, Nyx, or Gloria. Even Merlin had left me here, likely heading off to work on other challenges for our budding organizations across the globe.
"I guess you're right, Circe. It's just you and me, at least for now." I reached over and scooted her seat closer to mine.
"For now," she said, gently holding the top of the pot so it didn't fall over as she poured us two cups. She gave me a sultry look through her lashes as she filled my cup.
*****
Gloria was back at the Vein City fortress, acting as a bridge between the Mul Branova and the Nestors. The mood was especially tense as food within the city became scarcer, but the dwindling population was slowing the concern, as grim as that was. Still, plenty of people were coming to their walls everyday to be angry or depressed at their situation.
They couldn’t hand out bread, but they were taking those willing to work for it.
Whether from deaths or those who decided to take their chances outside of the cities, the population had shrunk considerably. As a result, Gloria was quickly snatching up resources for both organizations' manpower.
"Mistress Gloria," a Mul Branova appeared in her doorway, wrapping her knuckles against the open door.
"Yes," Gloria spoke with as much patience as she could manage, putting down the pen and stretching her wrist. She had found the transition back to paper immensely frustrating. Her wrist, even with her enhanced abilities, was not used to so much writing.
"It seems we have a large number of… guests." The Mul Branova clearly hesitated on what to call the new arrivals, and that told Gloria about all she needed to know.
She was on her feet a moment later. The coat hanging off her shoulders made her feel powerful. It felt like a cape. She'd often spent time in her youth cultivating a look that would make the old men of the Nestor clan respect her. And besides looking like a complete bitch and them wanting nothing to do with her, something about the coat over her shoulders always made them sit up a little straighter when she walked into the room. It also made them stop staring at her ass every time she passed them by.
"Well, show me to our new guests," she said, charging ahead of the poor girl who was rushing to keep up with her longer strides.
"There are quite a number of them," the woman said hurriedly, "and their levels don't seem to be insignificant."
"Doesn't matter. Worst case scenario, they cause a problem and I turn them to ash." Gloria walked out the side entrance, allowing her to go straight onto the inner wall and take two bridges to reach the outer wall where the guests were already quite visible.
She'd seen it in the reports, but this was the first time she'd laid eyes on it herself. Gloria clicked her tongue as she saw the rowdy crowd amassed outside the Citadel's walls.
The mass of people teemed with anger as they couldn’t stop themselves from shouting competing for the few Mul Branova on the wall’s attention.
She didn't even take a moment to contemplate the situation. What needed to be done had been ingrained into her with years of following her father.
Fire leapt from her fingertips as she crouched ever so slightly before launching herself into the air in a burst of fire. This gave her more lift, allowing her to soar briefly through the air before coming crashing down outside the wall and in front of the rowdy crowd.
The first step to controlling a mass of people was to show confidence. That wasn’t standing behind walls, that was joining them. Besides, she could fry them. Bran had given her a boost that none of these people could hope to match.
More purple fire danced from her fingertips, brushing against the ground and slowing her only slightly as she landed. The way she approached had the wonderful secondary effect of making them all get out of her way.
Next she needed to show them that she was above them and their anger didn’t even matter.
"Guests," she spoke loud enough for several of them to wince, stepping backwards, "I hadn't realized we had so many coming today. If you had told me, perhaps I would have prepared a little better."
Their voices quieted just enough to hear her, but certainly not out of respect. No, that was a glory she would have to earn or perhaps force them to respect her. Right now they were just curious who had the gall to come out here.
"We're looking for the one in charge," a man stepped forward, sticking his neck out, perhaps in an attempt to lead the motley crew around him.
"You don't have near enough qualifications to meet Bran. You should be happy that I came out to meet you myself, rather than just send some of our guards to shoo you away." She was above them.
The man hawked up a large glob of spit at Gloria's feet. She grimaced, not because it was close to hitting her, but because she was now going to have to make an example of him. "Well, if your leader isn't coming out, perhaps you can entertain us," he said with a smarmy smile.
"Oh, and how do you propose I do that?" Gloria asked, her arms crossed under her chest. She meant to look stern, but by the way several of the men's eyes dipped, she realized the gesture had not had the effect she wanted.
"I can think of a few ways that you can entertain the boys." The man’s eyes dipped down before raking over Gloria's body.
Gloria glared, making a mental note she might also need to remove his eyes. But for now, she wanted more information. "I'm more interested in where you came from and why you're here. You wouldn't happen to be one of those roving packs we've been hearing about?" She prodded.
"And what do they say about those roving packs?" The spitter ran a hand through his greasy hair, and apparently there was enough oil in it that he managed to actually slick it back.
Gloria tried to hide her disgust, but knew she’d failed. It was probably about time to stop being civil anyway. "Well, they say that you are useless, no good freeloaders who are just swinging by population centers for what food they can scrounge up." Gloria answered, enjoying as her words had an almost physical reaction to the man.
"I think that's a touch too far," he growled taking a step forward.
"Their words, not mine," Gloria shrugged, remaining poised as she scanned over his men, not giving him the satisfaction of keeping her full attention on him. "But I’m sure you are done here, because I can tell you that this city’s all out of food. So feel free to move along."
The man looked around the fortress, his eyes gazing past the walls to the multiple fields that Mul Branova had prepared and were actively tending.
"Looks to me like you might have quite a bit to share." He spoke with a slimy tone that made Gloria want to remove his head from his shoulders.
"Don't tell me you think you have a chance of getting any of that." Gloria stood her ground feeling several inspects brushing over her.
"I don't think you are going to be able to stop me." He stepped forward, only for one of his friends to suddenly grab his shoulder and shake his head urgently.
Gloria grinned. "Think your friends realize something you haven't, but don't worry, you'll realize soon enough." With a snap of her fingers, the leading man went up like a purple pyre. He had been getting on her nerves and it was clear she had to let this group know that they had no power to negotiate here.
The group behind him scattered, each of them pushing their fellows trying to get away as fast as they could.
Gloria wasn't going to let them go so easily. Small cracks filled with purple fire raced across the ground, diving through and behind the group. Flames leapt up twenty feet into the air all around them, with plenty of them being caught in the blaze.
After witnessing them herself, she realized they weren’t a dog to be tamed, but a rabid animal that had developed a taste for blood. The best course of action was to put them down before they infected anyone else.
One of them, brave enough to avoid the instinctual human reaction to fire, charged at Gloria. His sword slammed into her shoulder, scratching her dress, but failing to penetrate her skin.
She grinned at the idiot who could only stare at his sword in shock as he stumbled backwards, checking the blade and seeing that it had dulled against her body.
Fuck Bran and his father’s training, but that was satisfying enough that being beaten by monsters and thrown off a cliff was almost worth it.
"Glad to see you understand just how fucked you are. Ladies," she called up to the wall, "Please come forward and help me clean up this mess in front of us. I want a few of them alive to tell us more about what they have been doing and where they originated."
At her words, Mul Branova who had been watching the situation on the wall swarmed over the group of raiders like locusts. They hadn’t been standing back because they were afraid, not it was because they were disciplined.
Each of them had a high growth curve with an SS ranked class and were far higher level than the mob of miscreants.
The raiders barely stood a chance, putting up a pittance of a fight before being swiftly and brutally crushed. There were no questions asked, no mercy given. Skulls were bashed, guts were torn out, and a few were dragged away with just enough breath in their lungs for them to tell Gloria what she wanted to know.
The Mul Branova in their red and white habits were painted with blood and they relished in it, taking a lick here and there to empower themselves as they drank the blood of Bran’s enemies.
"Please," one begged as he was thrown at Gloria’s feet, turning and looking at the Mul Branova with pure terror.
"Oh, don't worry," Gloria promised as she stepped up, stomping on his leg, causing it to crack as she ground her heel into the break, making an example of the man. "I'll put you out of your misery as soon as you answer my questions. Where did you come from, and where is your base?" She stared at the man who sobbed up at her and refused to answer, only to glance over to assess the number of people the Mul Branova had grabbed. She had a solid dozen chances to get the answer she wanted.
"All of you," she looked over the Mul Branova, and the few members of the Nestor family woven in between them, "pick your favorite. The first one that gets someone to talk wins. And we'll heal the one that gives up information and send them on their way. The rest you can play with for as long as they last." She wasn't actually that brutal, but she knew the illusion would do far more to hurry this along.
A man was already screaming. "I'll talk! I'll talk! I know everything," he shouted hurriedly, even as others piped up, seconds too late.
Gloria stepped over and grabbed him by the collar. "He's mine. Make sure not to kill the others just yet until I can confirm he has all of the information that I want," Gloria said, looking over her people, before dragging the coward away.
She'd find out where they came from and go make sure that lessons resonated in the surrounding area. She knew that fear could be powerful, and she wanted all to fear Vein City. She wouldn't allow anyone to think Vein City was an easy target.
Comments
Charles handgis
I feel like there has not been any status updates for like 20 chapters. There have been a couple big fights too I am missing the progression and Litrpg elements in this story.
Chris Hodge
Right? "fuckin bran... Fucking Borrsons!"
Daniel Glasson
Gloria still being upset at Bran and his father over her training. I can just picture her randomly muttering about it to herself
