Draith
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Chapter 146 - Taken Apart
🕑 Added 2025-06-29 14:00:09 +0000 UTC"What… was that?" I asked, looking down at the body.
"Fifth former warlord of the day," Xelinda said, shaking her head. "Least this one didn't kill anyone before I got to him."
"I… former warlord? People died?" I asked, while staring at the man who’d been taken apart with a single swing. "How is this something I didn't know about?"
"It only happened a few hours ago," Xelinda replied, her hand wrapped tightly around the hilt.
"Was a right mess," Tamrie said, shaking her head and I could suddenly see the hollow look in her eyes. A she hadn’t had since becoming my assistant. "From what we could tell, seventeen people died, not counting the warlords. Five of them… five were their own children."
Her voice cracked at that, and I went over to her. No matter how much she didn’t want children of her own, that didn’t mean she didn’t care… Even as I hugged her, I looked down at the headless corpse. We'd been doing all this to protect people, and still… "So… why confront him here? What if he'd been at the front of the line instead of the end?"
"Was expecting that, actually," Tamrie said, leaning against me as she took a deep breath. "Would've been easier to get them separated with a crowd, according to Vednil. Less risk."
"Ah, that'd be me," the dwarf said, raising his hand in my direction, rubbing at his bruised face with the other. "I've dealt with Oldrin before. His reputation meant a lot to him, but everyone knew what sort of man he was. The sort of warlord he’d been."
"Not much of one," Xelinda said, shaking her head while kicking the sword on the man’s waist. "Didn't even manage to clear the scabbard."
"It'd been a few years since his last campaign," Vednil said, sweat beading on his head as he glanced towards Xelinda. The young woman still kept her hand on the hilt of her blade, as though she was expecting further violence. But I could see the tightness of her grip, the white knuckles.
She was affecting calm, but she was anything but.
"This is… are we expecting more of these 'former warlords'?" I asked, stepping back as a pair of sentries arrived to take the body. One of them kicked the man, his eyes red, before reaching down to grab the legs.
I forgot my original question as another thought struck me. Quietly, I asked, "How many of ours?"
Instead of answering immediately, Tamrie let out a long sigh, leaning against me again. "Three. All sentries who were trying to stop the fighting. They've got those shock rods, but they're not used to having to use them, and it takes several hits to bring down a warlord. They’re… like Vaserra, though not as strong. The first was the worst. She tore right through an entire table after getting in a fight with another refugee. She didn't survive Tanis's rage."
I… had a hard time, picturing Tanis angry. A very hard time. The blood remained where Oldrin had lost his head, and I was reminded of my own old man. It was hard to summon sympathy for the now headless corpse. I thought of the injuries I'd healed the night before. Of how I'd assumed they'd been from some monster.
Somehow, I'd forgotten that magical beasts weren't the only monsters.
"Is Tanis okay?" I asked, not letting myself dwell too long.
"He could use a touch of healing, if'n you're up for it. Managed to bust his nose in the fight, but he's still on duty. Said it's the least he can do," Tamrie said, giving me a weak smile. "Wasn't a clean knockdown, and I think he's blaming himself for the kids."
"We all are. I was right there, drinking with her when she…" Xelinda said, and only then did I realize why she kept gripping her handle so tight. "I thought the bladesingers were bad, but these… these…"
"Didn't used to be like this, or so my papa told me," Vednil said, his gaze shifting back towards the airship. "Back before the Golden Hunger tore through, we had protectors who would've stopped people like them. Until the Storm God showed up, I'd thought he was blowing smoke up my… that is to say, thought he'd been blowing smoke."
We all stood there in silence for another few seconds before Tresla descended the ramp. She paused, looking down at the pool of blood, then between us. "Feel like I missed something."
While Bevel started excitedly relating the events of the last few minutes, I squeezed Tamrie. "Sorry you had to deal with this on your own."
"Wasn't on my own," Tamrie said, even as she leaned her head against my shoulder. "Glad as anything that you're back, though, truth be told."
Xelinda had stepped in to amend Bevel's tale, and the three of them were already descending. I nodded towards Vendil. "Not exactly ideal circumstances, but nice to meet you, Vendil."
The stocky elf chuckled as he, Tamrie and I made to follow the others. "We've already met, Magus. No surprise you don't remember me though."
"Oh?"
"Got caught up in that mess with the tokens. You deputized me to help with the sorting," Vendil said, stroking his long beard.
"I… sorry, that was a pretty crazy period," I said. Honestly, I suspected I didn’t recognize him cause I hadn't been able to tell him apart from all the other dwarves. "Not that this is any less crazy."
"No stone off my back," Vendil said, waving me off even as he tugged on his beard. "Everything’s been a right mess the last few years. Storms've been worse, the monsters nastier than ever, and of course, the warlords weren't helping things, using their Stone’s Blessing to push people instead of helping, as they’re meant to."
"Well, might take us a bit to get everyone settled, but hopefully things'll improve," I said, clasping him on the shoulder.
"Won't be on account of us not putting in the work, that's a certainty," Tamrie said from my other side, where she was already back in her notebook. "Won't let a few dredgers muck up what we're building here."
"No, we won't," I agreed, smiling despite the grisly greeting we'd gotten.
The next few hours passed quickly as Tamrie ran me through what our current issues were. Now that we had a better idea of just how nasty the storm could get, I wanted better shelters for the incoming refugees. If I had an extra week, I could build them all from scratch.
We also wanted to have people in separate camps. There were a few people who were hoping to stay with us, willing to follow our local rules but there were more who wanted to live in the Storm God's domain. And only her domain.
It seemed a lot of them had only left their homes cause they thought they'd be living under Nexxa. While I didn't begrudge them their preference, a temporary camp was a lot of extra work. So I decided I might as well get more building materials and shelters all rolled into one.
Calbern had been out hunting down a warlord who'd ran into the nearby hills when we'd first landed, but he and Fang returned not long into my meeting with Tamrie.
Which was perfect, since I wanted to visit Conflict. The last trial had been almost identical to the second time I'd gone through, and had only resulted in a small increase to my Pattern Recognition, but it’d still earned me a favor.
After confirming that there weren't any emergencies I was needed for I created a Keystone for Tresla so she could continue running the Howling Defier then we set off on Fang.
Once more, the entrance had changed. This time the changes seemed more decorative, with metal skulls and pillars of fire belching out of horn-shaped chimneys over the entrance.
Calbern hardly slowed as he took us down.
The being greeted us, though it was distracted, reassembling one of its bug bots by hand. Well, by chain, since it was lifting the parts in place with the massive chains on its back while its hands sat idle.
Once inside, I again made my way from peak to peak, though this time I attempted to simply defeat the devils without crafting anything. I wanted to see if a different strategy might give me better gains to other parts of my refinement. On the fourth set of peaks, I ended up falling down the side with one of the devils.
Only its claws digging into the mountain kept us from plummeting further.
I used the tail I'd taken from the previous peak to cut off its hand as it struck at me. Once it fell into the clouds, I climbed up and decided to tackle the trial properly and went back and built proper equipment.
And since I'd given up on my original goal anyway, I decided to take the time to develop several more of Inertia's ideas. I stayed until the headache started to build, then made my to the end, once more destroying them from above.
Despite spending several relative days at the design table, when I emerged, Calbern was still pressed against the wall. Which I was starting to suspect would be normal on these repeats. He'd been inside longer than me last time too.
"So, would I be able to get you to build me storm shelters, splitting the materials and construction?" I asked, drawing Conflict's attention away from its experiment with the rollerbug. "They don't need to be fancy, though it'd be great if the parts could be delivered to Verdant Point."
The orange flame flared for a second, as the chains slid across the floor, rattling as they rose behind the being.
I held out the designs to Conflict, designs I'd only come up with while I'd been inside the trial. I managed not to flinch when one of those chains came forward and wrapped around my designs.
"Hmm, I will provide you with forty-two of these, as they've been drawn," Conflict said. The factory fired up around us even as the being turned back to its work.
It took another few seconds before Calbern stepped away from the door. Seconds I spent watching the surrounding factory roar to life.
I so wanted to get industry of our own started. With all the refugees, it wasn’t like I’d be short on workers.
"Just how long are you spending in there?" I asked when Calbern stepped up next to me, both of us turning towards his door. It still had the same image of several Kaijus on it. It made sense it took him a while to take them down.
"I believe I was there for about eight hours, master Percival," Calbern said, shaking his head.
"Ah, eight… Wait… what? Hours?" I asked, turning to look at him. "Only eight hours?"
"That is correct. Perhaps a little less, though I suspect not by much. I judge by your response, that you expected more," Calbern said, straightening himself further despite his already perfect posture.
"Uh… pretty sure I spent at least as many days inside," I said, glancing towards Conflict. "And I was out way earlier."
"That is rather peculiar," Calbern said, inclining his head towards Conflict. "Shall we attempt to extricate an explanation from our host?"
"I… think it might have to do with our paths," I said, though I nodded. "But we can ask."
"You are correct," Conflict answered without looking away from its task. "Your paths have been specialized, and your refinement further amplifies the effects of your trials."
I nodded, as Calbern asked several questions about his favors, though he didn't exchange them yet. It was a reminder of the changes that had already been made to Fang.
Changes I’d been a bit too busy to really appreciate before.
The machine no longer looked solely like an oversized motorcycle made of bone. While the core of its appearance remained distinctly familiar, the drivetrain, exhaust and engine had all received a massive overhaul.
Those were among the more subtle changes, especially compared to the new ‘bumper’ that had practically replaced the front of the bike.
Along with the new steel bumper, which was more like one of those old wedges they put on trains than any bumper I'd seen on a bike, the wheels now had three foot long spikes protruding from the sides. All of it had been done using an alloy that shone like chrome, while being at least as durable as the original serpent's bones.
It's performance hadn't improved by much, other than a slightly smoother ride, but it definitely looked more refined.
With an actual windbreak keeping most of the wind outside, our ride back to Tetherfall was spent in quiet conversation as we discussed the issues the new wave of refugees was bringing. And how shocked I was at the sudden violence.
"It is rather regrettable," Calbern agreed, shaking his head. "The woman I tracked down killed three men in the warlords' little uprising."
"Uprising?"
"When several people get displeased with our attempts to impose decorum upon them, and take it upon themselves to protest violently, I do believe uprising is an appropriate descriptor," Calbern replied seconds before sending us flying off a ramp. I couldn't help but stare at the level bridge just to the side.
Then we landed, and the thump of the now decently absorbative shocks served as a solid end to the conversation.
At least for the moment.
I could kinda understand people not wanting to follow new rules. Still, in my mind, that meant leaving or exile, not jumping straight to violence.
Still, if they took several hits from the shock rods to bring down. And they were killing people as they went…
Rubbing my forehead, I leaned back as the cold mountain air rushed by. Overhead, the lightning was so constant, it was brighter than if the sun had been shining.
Despite the cataclysmic weather and harsh climate, it was somehow the people who were giving me the most headaches. No. That wasn't fair.
It wasn't most of the people. Just a few bad actors. And wasn't that how it always was? A few loud voices could easily be mistaken as representing the silent majority. The folk who were just trying to get through to tomorrow.
Fang rolled to a stop inside one of the newly reinforced workshops. Even as I dismounted, still lost in thought, Calbern was calling out to Inertia.
While I was staring out into the storm, Inertia came whistle-hiss-stomping her way into the workshop.
After a second, Calbern started talking to her and his request was surprising enough it drew my attention away from everything else. "Sorry, what did you just ask her?"
"Ah, master Percival. I asked her if she could remove all the upgrades Conflict installed into Fang."
"You… want Inertia to remove the upgrades… you want her to take Fang apart?"
"Quite so," Calbern replied, inclining his head in my direction, not so much as a twitch of his eyebrow to indicate he was pulling my leg.
My gaze shifted towards Inertia, who matched mine. Her whistle-hiss of laughter was also met by my own.
