Battleforged
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Chapter 293 - Negotiating Rule #3: Never hesitate to crush your foes!
🕑 Added 2023-05-22 04:59:00 +0000 UTC“Arrogant boasting fool!” Yipped the closest gnoll. “You think you can hide behind cannons and your mother’s foul Silver aura forever? My assassins will rip out your throat! My men will swarm over your slow pathetic zombies as if they weren’t even there, before wiping out the last shreds of your pathetic alliance!”
Eric squeezed his fist. “NOT my alliance, idiot. I go where please, I kill who needs killing, and I claim their corpses for my army.”
The gnoll’s eyes bulged at the sheer absurdity of his statement. “You came here in your mother’s velimobile!”
Eric shrugged. “Nothing says I can’t take advantage of a lift.”
“Sleeping under your sister’s roof!” Roared one of the ogres.
Eric sighed, glanced down at his hand and buffed his nails. “I was hungry, so I raided their buffet. Pretty damn good. And it’s not like they can stop me.”
“Enough of this farce!” Greed hissed. “We all know you’re Aurelia’s creature. You’re her offspring! Don’t even try to deny it!”
Vidrig thrust a furious finger Eric’s way. “You’re willing to surrender your cannons for two thousand elves a piece! A number you blackmailed us into agreeing to! If you’re not allied to your mother, you’re taking a loss for no reason at all! No court would judge you to be anything but your mother’s creature!”
Eric smirked. “Actually, I have a two very good reasons to trade some cannons for two thousand elves a pop.”
The administrator ground his teeth while Eric just stood there with his mocking smile firmly in place.
“And those would be?” The man was forced to ask with a hiss.
Eric winked. “One, it would piss you all the fuck off, and that fills me with sweet, sweet satisfaction, like you wouldn’t believe. Two, any elves I bring here on Earth would owe me for all time, strengthening me in ways you can’t even comprehend. A debt that would be all the stronger, since I’m not even in their faction!”
Vidrigs eyes bulged, so filled with killing fury he couldn’t even speak. So Eric ignored him completely, turning instead to address the gnoll who had spoken.
“So, feeling like a badass, then? Think you can take on my men? Fantastic! How about you bring out a half dozen of your toughest goons? We’ll put them up against three… no, no, just ONE of my sarissophoroi. And we can judge for ourselves who the real badass is.”
The gnoll’s eyes widened, canine lips stretching in a lupine grin. “You’re on, human!”
The creature cackled, gleefully rubbing its hands together, gazing almost avariciously at the nine foot tall stoic looking sentinels covered in a fortune in bronze, with the oversized leaf-head shaped spear point, butt spike, even a long band of bronze in the very center of each and every one of their 25-foot long spears making it clear that nimble and light were not what their weapons were designed to emphasize.
“Heavy, clumsy weapons meant to be used in formation. Never in a disorganized melee! All that bronze will be worth a fortune in eldritch Delves, where mundane steel rusts within minutes.” said what looked to be an orc commander of some sort to both the gnoll and a pleased looking Greed. The gnoll’s own vicious lupine smile grew wider with those words.
“And we’re keeping the corpse, when we finish it off!” Eric’s challenger declared.
Eric nodded agreeably. “So long as you don’t mind me claiming the corpses of your people when they fall to my revenant, that’s fine.”
His cold grin widened at the looks of consternation this earned from the gnolls, but the snarling green-skinned orc, beady eyes glaring Eric’s way with such loathing, made it clear that commander wanted the remains of his fallen comrades, even if the Blackfang alliance was no more.
Or it could be that the Orc commander’s shamans wanted to study the body to use for their own rituals. Eric smirked at the thought, pretty sure it could go either way.
Not that he had any intention of allowing his revenants to fall back into any orc’s hands.
Not unless the price was right.
The gnoll glared at Eric for long moments, before jerking a nod. “That is acceptable. But my men will need a minute to prepare for the match!”
Eric’s smile widened. Exactly the concession he had been hoping for, sending a quick silent command to the revenant he had chosen for this particular exercise, as one among his thousand who looked just like every other slowly stepped in the center of the arena sands, banging his massive spear shaft upon the ground.
And in less than a minute, six snarling jackal-headed humanoids built like linebackers were carefully taking his revenant’s measure, half of them armed with what looked like a bronze and steal forearm guard covered in sharp spikes in their left hand, and a wide-bladed butterfly sword in their right. The other three were armed with halberds, their tactics perfectly clear.
At least the gnoll warriors were taking their prospective foe seriously, the lead three readying themselves to catch his revenant’s spear thrusts with their exotic looking arm guards while the other three would immediately spring into action and do their utmost to chop apart his revenant, cleaving blows being one of the few types of injuries that would lay even his masterworks low.
After pinging a few gnolls with his interface, Eric thought he understood their leader’s mocking confidence.’
Gnoll Pitfighter - Level 25 / Strength 40 / Vitality 30 / Finesse 30 / Quickness 40 / Perception 15 / Appearance (You’d put that ugly mutt down in a heartbeat, if it were yours!)
To their credit, they didn’t roar with laughter like their masters in the spectator seats above the massive open air arena just outside the city did when Eric’s revenant calmly unscrewed the central bronze tube connecting the two halves of his sarissa. Though even they smirked just a bit when the revenant kept only the lower half of his weapon, now facing the six gnolls with his half-spear in a lazy two handed grip.
Yet it was only a thick bronze butt spike that faced them, with so wide a cap and obtuse an angle that the now top-heavy weapon clearly stood no chance of piercing the steel scaled armor the jackal-faced gnolls wore, expertly designed to hug their frames as perfectly as a suit of fine elven chain, while providing even more protection than Sylvan hauberks, Eric acknowledged, as Greed himself sneered at Eric and roared the words that sent all his sycophants cheering, all of them happy to yank on the chains worn by numerous half-naked slaves, demanding wine, sweetmeats, and far less savory treats as Eric forced himself to ignore acts that would set his blood boiling, focusing only on the fight about to begin. Peering intently at his sentinel now holding off the rapidly approaching gnolls with his spear held in a pool-cue grip as he slowly circled the yipping snarling gnolls.
Of course Eric’s sentinel earned jeers and laughter as he continued to cautiously circle, though the gnolls refused to charge all at once, either. For they were the ones facing down a revenant holding a twelve foot long pole in a relatively competent two-handed grip. And even if that oversized butt spike didn’t look capable of piercing anything, the creature’s wide two handed grip, winding parries, and most of all, its ridiculous reach, was more than enough to keep the increasingly frustrated gnolls at bay. Especially since Eric’s revenant didn’t lunge for the taunting gnolls themselves, but rather chose to strike only at the armored forearm guards worn by the lead three gnolls. So instead of catching its weapon, their exotic guards caught only the heavy bronze spike that was quickly wrenched away, the pitfighters receiving punishing bruises and in at least one case, a couple cracked wrist bones, if the yelp a smirking Eric heard was anything to go by.
Of course there was a cost to this, Eric’s revenant being herded steadily back across the outdoor arena that was more an outline in the carefully raked sandy field than anything else. And even if Eric’s creation remained unharmed, the gnoll’s fighting fury had only grown.
Eric could smell their growing frustration even from a hundred yards away.
Eric knew it was only a matter of time before they swarmed his revenant as one.
“Enough of this! Charge in and kill that abomination!” Roared the jackal Contender with a hot-eyed glare for Eric that he pretended not to notice.
And faster than any human could hope to move, they charged as one.
Just as Eric had known they would.
Eric’s revenant was now facing Eric, with half a dozen gnolls between them.
Everything going exactly as planned.
“Come to me!”
A silent command, and Eric felt a frisson of darkest glory and a connection like a silver cord between them suddenly snapping tight, as Eric’s formerly carefully plodding revenant suddenly exploded forward, no longer holding his spear shaft for darting lunges, but rather like the eight pound two handed war mace it effectively was.
With a cornel wood shaft and weighted bronze head that exploded through the closest two knolls as Eric’s revenant blasted through them at 150 miles per hour, shattered gnoll bodies were sent hurtling through the air as Eric’s revenant abruptly spun around, no longer reeled in by Eric’s command, yet free to make full use of what truly was a devastating weapon in the hands of a well-trained soldier.
A warrior now wielding a killing tool in ways the dumbstruck gnolls clearly hadn’t fathomed. As what had seemed a poorly used excuse for a spear showed itself to be an absolutely devastating war hammer with a shaft far longer than any of the cleaving polearms that had ruled the battlefield for centuries. Because none of those mauls, guandao, or halberds had been wielded by a nine foot tall, 600 pound undead orc with 50 levels, 75 Strength, and a lust for killing. A revenant infused with the essence of an ancient warrior who had trained to kill with his spear in every way conceivable, over two thousand years ago.
A revenant that was now dominating the battlefield with vicious sweeps of his weapon, generating so much power with his two-handed grip on that super dense hardwood shaft that the killing tool needed no edge at all to blast right through knees and shins before whipping back around to finish of screeching gnolls writhing in their own spurting blood with powerful overhand blows that shattered skulls like blood fruit and ruptured chests in the same way Eric might have slammed a crowbar through a shopping bag filled with butcher meats and several quarts of blood.
It was a flurry of lethal blows that the panicked gnolls had no hope of countering, thin maneuverable halberd shafts utterly failing to stop a Resilience Rune-reinforced weapon from blasting them to splinters before silencing the desperate cries of their owners with a heavy bronze butt-spike designed both to serve as a counterweight for a heavy 25 foot long spear, and, Eric was pretty damn sure, to be used exactly as his revenant was using it, the ultimate skull-shattering polearm to augment five rows of thrusting pike. A tool of death that could effortlessly hammer in ancient helmets like clay, even in the hands of a 15 strength human, let alone the monstrously powerful blows his revenant unleashed, sending desperately screaming gnolls collapsing in sprays of blood and gore.
“Enough! Stop it! Stop killing my champions!” Screamed the Gnoll Contender.
Eric smirked, slowly shaking his head. “Come now. Weren’t you determined to have your men put me in my place and grab yourself a revenant corpse of your own? Best we see it through to the bitter end. But don’t give up hope. There’s still a chance you’ll get lucky! And we wouldn’t want to spoil the show for all our guests, now would we? Eric swept his hand to include all the coldly staring administrators, his smile growing all the wider when the two surviving gnolls coughing up blood squealed for quarter and began running back the way they had come.
Once more putting Eric’s prey between himself and his revenant.
Allowing for one more explosive charge.
Your revenant has critically struck its prey!
Double Fatality!
Your revenant’s level has increased by one!
The crowd of Administrators, Contenders, financial tycoons and puppet-masters went dead silent as the final pair of gnolls were sent cartwheeling through the air. But not before the revenant’s spear shaft had pounded through their skulls like a home-run hitter smashing his bat through grapefruit.
Just a whole lot bloodier.
“The match was yours! I conceded! You killed my men on purpose, you bloodthirsty bastard!” Hissed the gnoll contender, spitting at Eric’s feet.
Eric glanced back at the furious-looking gnoll. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the dying screams of your champions. So sorry!” He flashed the snarling creature his best shit-eating grin. “But they’re not your champions now, are they?”
“What the hell are you talking about? Of course they are! Healers! Attend to my fallen at once!”
Eric smirked, turning to gaze upon the crumpled forms of the clearly dead gnolls. “Sorry, I’m afraid they’re far beyond any healer. But don’t worry, I’ll be more than happy to get them back on their feet.”
Eric winked at the ghastly look on the gnoll’s face. “Of course, they might have had a change of heart regarding their employment. I’m sure you understand.”
His mocking smile turned to a glare filled with such hate that the level 32 gnoll contender was sent stumbling back. Eric then turned to the bloody field of battle and roared the words that always sent sweet hot tingles of darkest joy shivering through his soul.
“Surge, centuria! Imperator imperat tibi!”
And the pleasure he always felt was made all the sweeter when the gnoll behind him shrieked and gnashed its teeth as first one mound of pulverized flesh, then a second, then all six, began to tremble and twitch as deformed bodies began to twist themselves upright once more. Caved in chests popped back into shape with the crackling pop of gristle and bone, entrails and blood slurping back inside reinflating diaphragms as if the ticking clock of their final moments of life had been deliberately rewound.
Only what stood at attention weren’t six sneering jackals radiating contempt for the half-elf they had thought they could get the better of, but were instead the stares of unflinching devotion from eyes glinting with eldritch fire, each fallen gnoll now equipped with a sarissa both thinner and shorter than those used by the orcs, though identical in shape and design, as well as bronze armaments befitting creatures two thirds as tall and just a fraction of the weight of the revenant that had crushed them so thoroughly in life. Said revenants now welcomed their newest conscripts into the eternal ranks in death, all seven revenant spearmen now slamming fists to chests as they belted the words Eric most wanted to hear.
“Ave Imperator, abedimus!”
“Damn right you do!” Eric shouted back. “Till Earth’s final days, you’ll serve me without fail!”
Eric’s grin widened all the more when he turned back around and basked in the looks of revulsion and hate-filled glares of some of the most powerful people, politically anyway, on this tiny corner of the North American continent.
“You cheated!” The fully armored gnoll contender screeched, jabbing at Eric with his clawed digit. “You’re spearman clearly cheated!”
Eric could barely hold back his laughter. “It’s war, motherfucker. How did I or my revenant cheat?”
“He had a 25-foot spear. There’s no way he could have possibly taken out any of my men with that cumbersome thing! So instead you had him disassemble it into a twelve foot long war maul with a bronze head! Twice the length of the mauls your ancient knights used to use to cave in each other’s skulls! There’s no precedent for a twelve foot version of that killing tool on the battlefields of Terra! None whatsoever!”
Eric gazed at the creature in frank disbelief. “Newsflash, asshole. There’s no precedent of humans having to fight for their lives against jackal-headed fucks like yourself, either. But here we are, aren’t we?”
The gnoll’s eyes bulged with outrage. “How dare you call me a jackal, you half-elf necromantic abomination! Your very existence is anathema to your tribe!”
Eric spread his arms with a smile. “It seems like you don’t think too highly of my tribe.”
“Of course not! Those scrawny weaklings are good for nothing but spit roasts and stew!” The jackal put his hands on his hips and roared with forced laughter. A rumble picked up quickly enough by orcs, ogres, and goblins alike.
Eric smirked. “So, how many elves would you say each of your elite pit-fighters was worth?”
Greed’s mocking smirk instantly froze, laughter meant to goad Eric into playing the fool dying in his throat as he glared at the gnoll. “Don’t!”
“It would take five of your pansy ass elves to take down even one of my gnolls!”
Eric smirked, gazing pointedly down at his 1 orc revenant and the six gnoll revenants saluting smartly behind it, before flashing a furious-looking Greed his widest grin. “Sounds like we just got confirmation that each of my revenants are worth at least thirty elves. What do you think about that, Greed?”
The goblin snarled and glared, trembling with such hate, Eric thought the goblin would attack him personally.
Unified Perception noted the way Greed’s fingers inched for the cloaked holdout arcane blaster radiating just an outline of swirling energy he spotted at the goblin’s hip.
Eric locked gazes with the snarling Greed and winked. “Go for it, asshole. Aim for the mouth. Hope you hit naked flesh, and not my warded chain mail. Who knows? You might get lucky. You might become the hero of the Snicklit tribe. But if you miss...”
Eric’s smile grew as all the humanoids grew quiet with his soft, cold words. “If you miss your shot, Greed, I promise you it will be the last shot you’ll ever fire before you’re joining my men below.”
Eric chuckled coldly when Greed hissed and stumbled back, splayed hands now nowhere near his invisible holdout blaster.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, human! But threatening Administrators, representatives, and Contenders is an executable offense!”
Eric smirked. “Except when you assholes are doing it, right?” His gaze hardened. “Cut the crap, asswipe, and make your offer. Or me and my men walk.”
He turned and winked at the snarling gnoll Contender.
“And by walk, I mean we race for New York state as fast as my two feet will take me. And I think you’d be pretty damned surprised at just how fast I can run.”
“Ten for one!” Shouted the robed administrator, her eyes a mixture of fear and hate. “Make the offer, Greed! Ten of Aurelia’s elves for each of her son’s infernal revenants!” Her eyes glittered with bitter fury. “But it must include all his revenants. Every last one! I won’t tolerate even one of his necromantic abominations fowling the forests and fields of the nation I love, ever again!”
Eric winked. “Spoken like a true politician.”
“And they cannot be veterans!” Hissed Vidrig, glaring at a smirking Eric and a coolly smiling Aurelia. “They must all be level ten or below. Conscript levels! No Advanced Classers. None whatsoever!”
Greed puffed thoughtfully, peering intently at all the assembled. “So are we all in agreement? Ten newbloods, level 10 or below for each Revenant. 2000 newbloods for each cannon that bastard child would point our way!” He said the latter half while staring at the battery of six long guns Eric had left pointing at the elevated boxes the administrators had long since abandoned. An all too visible threat and warning that the assembled power brokers would no doubt go to any length to see wiped off their enemy’s ledger, at nearly any cost.
“One thousand newbloods per cannon!” Snarled the salt and peppered administrator Chelton, slinging back a full golden cup of ruby red wine. “This monstrosity thinks he can seduce and charm our children without paying a price? He’s a fool indeed!”
“One thousand five hundred elves of my choice for each cannon, permitted no class levels above ten,” Aurelia countered. “And I’ll make sure my son sells you all his cannons, not just the handful pointing at your favorite seats!”
“Damn right it will be for all his cannons,” Vidrig hissed. “No exceptions!”
But Greed was glaring at a coolly smiling Aurelia. “Don’t play us for fools, woman. We won’t let you distract us with the antics of meek, low-level Classers while you fill your quota with high level non-combat professionals!”
Aurelia chuckled throatily, even going so far as to bow her head, as if in respect for the goblin’s insight. “Admirably astute! It looks like you have me figured out already, Greed. How delightful! It is always good to find a worthy opponent on the fields of diplomacy and war both. You wouldn’t believe how rare Contenders capable of both truly are, darling.”
She then proceeded to butter him up so blatantly, so shamelessly, that Eric could barely suppress a cringe. Yet the goblin couldn’t help himself, his beady eyes twinkled, happily puffing on a fresh cigar, preening under Aurelia’s words even as the human Administrators snorted and shook their heads.
Aurelia’s smile hardened, switching from gushing sycophant back to penny-pinching negotiator in the blink of an eye. “One thirtieth level and two twentieth level Professionals for each cannon you would claim. The rest of the 1,500 elves I bring through, whether they be adventuring Classers or non-combat Professionals, may be no higher than level ten. Are we agreed?”
Greed turned to the administrators, earning grudging nods from all, though several felt the need to glare Eric’s way, three going so far as to spit at their feet.
Eric smirked. “Wow! Such passion! That’s what an actor strives for… lives for! To generate such visceral reactions in my audiences. I’m touched. Truly.” He shook his head. “Now if only you showed that much emotion for all the poor sods wearing slave collars right now. Half-naked girls covered in bite marks and bruises who couldn’t be more than a year older than your own kiddos looking so badass in their Stormsoldier armor… oh, wait, that’s right, they’re becoming paladins now!”
He said the last with a grin at the still glowing youths undergoing a transformation that would have left him in awe, had things not been exactly what they were right now. His enemies revealing the rot at their core, and stripping his most prized resources while doing so.
“Silence, abomination! We’ll be dealing with you, soon enough!” said Vidrig with a snarl.
Eric’s mocking smile turned cold with hate. “No, actually, you won’t. All past transgressions are forgiven, and no judgment will be placed on me based on the negotiations that take place today. Furthermore, no future judgment will be made as a pretext to punish me for today. That’s one accord you all signed that I actually did bother to read on the ride over here. The only notice I’ll ever read from you fuckers. And since the seething hate all of you so clearly feel for me knows no bounds… because how can it, when ten of your offspring have been sworn into the Sylvan faction’s service? You can never honestly say you can pass dispassionate judgment against me, or my sister, ever again.”
Eric’s smile grew wide at the look of apoplectic helpless fury on the man’s face… and countless others.
“And you all know it yoursel e. You’re just blowing hot air because that’s all you can do.” Eric laughed. “But I’ll give you idiots this much, at least. If looks could kill, every single one of you corrupt assholes would be getting a sweet pile of experience points right now.”
The jackal-faced Contender glared at Eric with seething hate. “Soon, worm. Soon you will be shriven of all your toys, and then you will know what it truly means to cross my clan!”
Eric smirked. “Down, boy. Heel. Stay… Stay… good boy.”
The largest green-skinned orc and the massive ogre beside him exchanged cool stares before turning Greed’s way. “We don’t trust the half-blood. He’s trying to goad you all into acting like fools,” said the too perceptive ogre in a rumbling voice. “Best we finish this quickly. The numbers are acceptable to all of us. Correct, Silvis?”
The gnollish contender bit back a snarl. “Fine!” Silvis snapped, glaring hate Eric’s way. “But I’m claiming my half dozen!”
“That’s not the arrangement,” The ogre warned. “If we wish to assure that this abomination never happens again… you know what has to be done.”
Eric blinked, feeling a cold chill with those words, thoughts racing about what they could mean, what peril he was blindly rushing into. Yet he did his utmost to keep his face an expressionless mask, lest they sense his discomfort as weakness, and move in to strike.
“What the fuck are they talking about?”
His mother gave him the tiniest of smiles. “Just one of the many superstitions that even the most well-connected clans in this sector have about classes they barely understand, dear. With your power, it’s nothing to worry about. Remember why I advised exactly the number of revenants you now have on full display. Just under a thousand, even with your six newest recruits. And their false confidence opens the way to us finally being able to keep your sister safe!”
Eric couldn’t help but smirk, both sensing her genuine affection, and knowing damn well that she might just be playing him every bit as well as they were both playing Greed, and Greed was trying to play them.
“Fine!” Snarled the gnoll, Silvis’s eyes twin daggers of hate. “Ten elves per revenant. 1500 elves per cannon. Let’s finish this! I grow… hungry,” he said with a slow toothy smile Eric’ sway.
Greed chuckled indulgently. “Very good, Silvis. Very good.”
Greed then turned to Eric. “Is this acceptable to you, Eric Silver? Ten elves of level 10 or lower, in class or profession, for every revenant you surrender? And 1500 elves, of level 10 or lower, for every cannon you surrender?”
“Ten elves of level 10 or lower, in Class or Profession, for every humanoid revenant I surrender. 1500 elves of level 10 or lower, in Class or Profession, for every cannon I surrender,” Eric clarified. “So long as we’re also including 1 level 30 and 2 level 20 Professionals per cannon. Also, Aurelia Silver, along with anyone she designates, gets to choose all of those elves.”
“Outrageous!” The administrator wearing dark blue judges robes declared. “His weapons are being sacrificed for his mother’s benefit. His undead spawn surrendered for fresh elven blood. So how is it that this abomination is not held to the accords of the Sylvan alliance? How is he not his mother’s pawn?”
Greed rolled his eyes. “Who cares, Janice? Let’s just get this done!”
Eric smirked. “Strictly free agent here, ladies and germs! As for why I’m doing this? I already told you! How much stronger will the absolute and utter adoration of thousands make me? If you think I’m badass now, just wait tilil people start worshiping me like I’m the second coming! But that’s not the only reason, hell no! Maybe I’m doing it because the experience pool is sweeter if I’m not using black powder to blow all you assholes up at range. Maybe I just like seeing the expressions on your faces when you’re forced to eat crow and tell me YOU LIKE IT! YOU LOVE EVERY LAST FUCKING MORSEL OF THE SHIT I’LL HAPPILY SHOVE DOWN ALL YOUR FUCKING THROATS!”
He flashed a shit-eating grin at their glares of unmitigated hate. “Or maybe I just think elves are ten times as hot as all you hairy trolls, and I would LOVE to have thousands of super hot flawless babes populating this corner of paradise who will be so very eager to treat their ‘hero’ to a ride around the world without ever leaving their fucking beds! You get what I’m saying, bros and bitches? I’m doing this mad-lad bullshit because I get a KICK out of the looks on your faces, which is almost as much fun as the look on mommy dearests’ face will be when all of her hottest crack troops are popping out my babies in just 13 months time!”
Eric couldn’t help it. He laughed aloud at the look his mother gave him, icy daggers in his back, which fit the mood to a T.
The former judge Janice sneered her contempt. “I see in this one case, at least, all the tabloids got it right about you.” She flashed a cold smile. “Manic. Unstable. Savage. An abusive lover.” She snorted. “Is it true, then? Did you really murder your twin sister’s ex lover in a fit of jealous rage?”
Eric flashed a thousand megawatt smile. “I plead the fifth, your honorless!” He said, before summoning one of the gnoll revenants before him, his smile turning to a bloodthirsty snarl as his fist CRACKED against the thick, reinforced bronze breastplate as the utterly silent revenant went cartwheeling through the air.
Eric raised his hand, miming shading his eyes. “Tokyo Towers, baby! It’s a fucking home run!”
He winked at the pale-faced judge once more. Then turned back to Greed. “This shit’s been fun and all, but I’d really like to get some fresh elven babes to hammer. So if we could hurry this bullshit up? Gratzi!”
Greed cackled good-naturedly. “Oh I think I like this one after all, Aurelia. Sworn enemy or no, at least he’s not as stuck up as most of your kind!” His bemused smile turned just as hard and cold as Eric’s own. “You do understand that this deal is for all your revenants and all your cannon, right, boy?”
Eric snorted, summoning Bunbun in the blink of an eye, petting her floppy white ears as he perched her on his shoulder. “You going to claim my Bunbun for ten elves each? How about any other former mammals, lizards, or birds I’ve collected since my first fumbling steps as a Necromancer?”
He winked Janice’s way. “So what do you think, Judge Janice? You want a cute little Bunbun of your own?”
Bunbun’s eyes glared with fiery red hate. The judge blanched.
Eric’s smile grew wider. “Anyone? Anyone?”
“Enough of your games, brat!” Snapped Vidrig. “Greed, prepare the contract!”
Eric sighed. “Just the orc revenants then.” He frowned down at the shattered corpse that was his latest addition, having been punched so hard it’s ribcage had completely warped and deformed, yet still it managed to lift its former arm in a salute. “And the gnolls as well, I suppose.” He turned back to Greed.
“Well, let’s get that contract ready, then! And seeing as we have all these legally upstanding members of high society with us today...” Words that earned a harrumph from the administrators and a snarl from the gnoll leader who looked a hairsbreadth from charging right for Eric’s throat.
Before tapping his chin repeatedly as a cheerfully humming Greed puttered over a vellum contract stinking of sulfur, pain, and despair. Though the Winter Queen was carefully eyeing his every flick of a crimson pen, her soft lips curved into a fiercely satisfied smile. “Oh and of course I assume there’s no problem in having a third party eye over the contract as well?”
Greed’s cheerful smile instantly turned to a hard scowl. “What are you talking about, boy? You have your mother. Who else do you need?”
Eric chuckled. “What you mean to say is that we have a member of a faction separate from my own bearing witness, but as I am an independent party, a ‘free agent,’ if you will, it only makes sense that I have independent council of my own. Don’t you agree?”
Eric shared a quick glance with his mom who actually winked, grateful to find out that there was a payoff for sacrificing half a trillion credits worth of gold, besides a soul-bound pin that made him off-limits to intergalactic bounty hunters, even should he dare to use his abilities off world. As if they’d ever come after a low level nothing like him. Still, to find out that there was even a tiny bit of justice in the galaxy… or maybe it had been because his mother had spent some quality time with an old flame who seemed just as crazy as her. Either way, he couldn’t have been happier with the message he had just received.
Greed frowned, then shrugged. “Sure! But if you actually think any lawyer in Freetown isn’t already in my pocket then you’re a —“
His bemused smirk instantly died on his face, his eyes growing wide in sudden apprehension as the Administrators all grew absolutely quiet. Which just made the ogres, orcs, and gnolls present bristle and glare Greed’s way in confusion.
“What the hell’s going on, Greed?” Snarled the largest orc. “Why the Fuck’s Blue Corp here? I thought you said they were taken care of!”
The ogre groaned, rubbing his massive craggy face. “You’re such an idiot, Flint.”
Greed, however, had gone white as a sheet, yet another cigar slipping free of trembling lips. “Caliban! You’re here! How the hell did you escape— I mean, good! You’re here! Ha ha. So many rumors popping up about you and your alleged illegal activities! I’m surprised to see you back in this backwoods corner of the sector. I thought it normally took what, ten Terran Years to successfully process an Imperial case? And normally they’re very, very… possessive when it comes to accusations of high theft!” Desperate furious eyes glared at the panicked-looking administrators. The goblin laughed nervously once more. “But of course we’re glad. More than glad… we’re absolutely thrilled to see you back among us!”
The goblin swallowed. Stumbling back. “Yes, we’re all overjoyed! Caliban, former head of the Terran Chapter of Blue Corp, has graced us with his presence, everyone. Isn’t that absolutely wonderful?”
Eric turned, unable to hold back his smile when he saw Caliban in the flesh, his once stern yet handsome features worn under a weight of stress and despair like Eric couldn’t imagine. Yet the fierce vitality, the almost predator-like intensity he saw in the man’s ice blue eyes sent chills up and down Eric’s spine.
Eric sensed that the man was a hell of a lot more than a typical administrative Professional, even if he couldn’t get a read on the man’s character sheet, and that was more than fine with him.
“Hello Caliban. It’s good to see you.” Eric felt a sudden flush of awkwardness, not quite sure what to say to this man he had both admired and been so very grateful to, after the Blue Corp representative had repeatedly gone out of his way to help Eric, a defender and champion of his cause, his financial fortunes at least, when absolutely no one else had had his back.
Eric had felt such a debt of gratitude when his associate whom he dared to think of as friend had gone so far beyond the call of duty in helping him safely squirrel away over a half-trillion in gold… then sticking his neck out even further, daring to secure his funds with an inviolate Imperial Bond.
Only for their mutual enemies to take full advantage of Caliban’s over-extension and destroy him with it, during the months Eric had been trapped in an exotic, beautiful, and utterly isolated pocket realm of endless potential that had eventually blossomed into its own world, gifting Eric with the tiniest amount of its spiritual wisdom, and a massive 4 month chunk of his life completely out of contact with everyone.
So he had never been in any position to refute the charges that Caliban had acted in poor faith. Charges that had then been used to get rid of a very annoying obstacle in the goblin’s own plans for local influence and dominion, no doubt putting a certain corrupt as fuck Blue Corp lackey in place who was willing to dance to the Snicklit tune. A dark suspicion Eric had had for some time, which his ‘What The Other Party Wants’ perk made screamingly clear was dead on, after catching the furtive frightened glances between administrators and Snicklit faction representative alike.
Not that furious glances and anxious stares would be admissible in any court, but the look Caliban gave him, so filled with acknowledgment and fiercest gratitude, made it clear that Caliban’s hawk-like gaze missed absolutely nothing.
And there would be a reckoning. A blue tinged storm beyond anything these pretenders had ever seen.
“It is good to see you as well,” Caliban quietly said, taking Eric’s proffered hand and giving it a firm shake. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Eric,” Caliban quietly said, Eric’s cheeks flushing as he sensed so much more being said. “It would be my great honor to serve as your witness, attorney, and representative in your… continued negotiation with all administrators and factions present.”
The Blue Corp representative flashed the entire assembly the tiniest of smiles, nodding his head so very politely. And not a single person present failed to flinch and pale under his regard.
“How delightful,” his mother thought. And Eric couldn’t help but agree.
Greed cleared his throat. “So, you have taken to freelancing, then? Have you cleared your… independent status with the present head of the Terran Branch?”
Caliban’s smile was nearly as cold as Aurelia’s. “No need for that, Greed. Didn’t you get the memo? I am the new head of the Terran Branch.”
The goblin blanched, now looking truly alarmed. “No, that’s impossible! You’re just one unconnected pawn! There’s no way his clan would have allowed you to take it—“
“My dear associate Arlen Ort has taken advantage of a rare promotion crafted specifically to make the most of his exquisite skills as a negotiator with a fine eye for opportunity. Our employers thought it best if I return here in the meantime, and make full use of my extensive experience in Terran affairs.”
Caliban flashed a chill smile. “And I have no doubt that you’ll be absolutely delighted to hear that they completely agreed with concerns brought by various Snicklit associates that undue administrative resources were being drained by both our factions in hammering out extremely nuanced low-profit contingencies. But instead of consolidating under your banner, which you’ll be pleased to note that Arlen had originally been completely in favor of, Upper Management has instead decided to give me autonomous authority over all Blue Corp interests here on Earth.”
Greed’s eyes bulged. “No! There’s no way they would have agreed to something that...” The goblin trembled and licked his lips.
“That efficient?” Caliban smirked. “You may rest assured, Greed, so long as I turn a profit and don’t break the letter of my contractual obligations, I am now free to manage our Terran investments as I see fit.” His intent gaze bored into Greed’s own. “I’m free to invest all the resources I deem prudent… wherever and however I deem prudent… so long as I turn a profit.” Then he smiled. A sight Eric found both terrifying and thrilling. No wonder he had never gotten a good read on Caliban.
“Upper management is even willing to bend a few longstanding traditions… so long as I deem it in our best interests, and prove the profitability of my vision. And I assure you, Greed, our projected growth will make even your head spin.”
“We did nothing!” Greed screamed, unable to handle the tension so thick in the air. “You have no one to blame but yourself, for overextending like a fool! You can prove nothing, or you already would have!”
Caliban just stared at the goblin for long moments, then tapped his watch. “Cease your blathering and finish the contract. Time is money, Greed, and I’ve already wasted more than enough of both.” He turned to gaze at each and every administrator present. Only one or two frowned curiously back. All the others, including the sniping shrews who had been giving Eric such such a hard time, uniformly flinched and looked away, as if desperate to escape the man’s icy gaze.
Good, Eric thought with a certain fierce sense of joy.
It looked like a certain handful of spiteful old men and women had done a bit of overstepping themselves.
And much to Eric’s surprise, the contract he got was surprisingly concise, clear, and to the point, void of any traps that even his Nose for A Bad Deal perk made clear weren’t present. Probably because a Silver Tier faerie queen and the head of a faction no doubt looking for the slightest weakness or vulnerability to exploit had both been glaring at both Greed and his pen. And save for slightly shaky handwriting, all was written according to his and Aurelia’s original agreement.
Eric frowned. “It looks okay except in defining types of revenant.” He negligently turned and gestured to his near thousand nine foot tall orc spearmen. “I have no problem giving up the orcs and gnolls at ten elves a pop, as stated here. But if you boys want any of my animals, like Bunbuns here… I’ve decided that I’m not giving any of them up for less than a hundred. Or the kitties and birdies I might have accidentally frozen in my mother’s garden, or any other kitties or birdies… proto birdies? I might have experimented on, just for fun.”
“Disgusting!” Judge Janice hissed. “Torturing innocent animals with your sick fetish!”
Eric flashed the woman his most winning smile. “Who cares if those zombies don’t fly or scratch trees? I still think they’re pretty to look at, and I’ll sell you a whole bunch, for just a hundred elves each!” He turned to Aurelia with a too-wide smile. “We talked about zombie flowers. Do you think people would be into zombie pets, Mother?”
Aurelia smirked. “We can discuss business opportunities for your undead pets later, darling. Let’s just get this taken care of first, shall we?”
The Winter Queen then graced the entire assembly of disgusted-looking humans and board humanoids with a warm smile of her own. “Though if you darlings would like to purchase any of my son’s lovely creations for a mere 100 elves allowed free passage per pet revenant, you’re more than welcome to.”
“Are you insane, woman?” Hissed Vidrig, before freezing solid with a whimper when the most strikingly beautiful, and deadly, actress ever to grace the silver screen queried him with a single raised brow.
“You were saying, administrator?”
“Nothing, he was saying nothing, Your Grace!” Assured Administrator Chelton, before glaring down at Greed. “Put it in the contract. Anyone who wants to buy this boy’s birds or… cats, or any of his other abominations at those absurd terms are welcome to!”
Aurelia dipped her head. “Wonderful. See, sweetheart? Now anyone who wants a bunny or kitty or a birdie like your own is free to make that purchase!”
Eric’s grin widened, his eyes limpid pools of joy. “That’s all I really wanted. You all know that, right? All this bloodshed and mockery… sure, it’s fun, but I’m really just in it for the Bunbunz! Right Bunbunz?”
Lilly flopped her ears with a nod and a salute, knowing better than to say a word. At least for now.
“Stop toying with us, brat, and sign the damned contract!” A furious Vidrig roared, though carefully not meeting Aurelia’s gaze, his eyes glaring into Eric’s alone.
Eric winked, clicking his tongue and miming a finger pistol right at the man, who actually paled and yelped. He then bent down instantly shifting from mocking to dead serious as he read, and reread the words, looking for any tricks, traps, dizzyingly complex legalize or any reason at all, really, not to have to sign that awful bottom line.
Much to his dismay, the contract wasn’t just aboveboard, it was cleaner and more concise than any he had ever seen before in his life.
He could feel his mother’s glare on his back.
Caliban’s concerned gaze as well.
Eric sighed, praying he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life as he carefully signed the contract.
He gave his pleased looking mother an anxious look. She gave him a reassuring nod.
But with the way Greed was positively beaming, despite this being exactly what Eric was hoping for, he could only pray he hadn’t been a fool.
“Wonderful!” Greed chortled. And it didn’t make Eric feel any better to see the look of glee in the goblin’s face. Nor the smug looks exchanged by Vidrig, Chelton, and the others.
“Now that that bit of ugliness has been taken care of, we have one final piece of business to attend to!”
Eric frowned.
Before hearing the cry of a baby and a woman’s desperate wail that made his blood run cold.
He recognized those voices.
And numerous others.
All locked in a metal cage, now being wheeled out into the central chamber. And much to Eric’s fury and horror, Greed had just pulled up what looked like a crystallized remote control stick, flashing Eric a truly vicious grin.
But all Eric could see was an exhausted looking Rica, still achingly beautiful despite having lost so much weight, her face gaunt with dread and despair, dark shadows under her eyes, her clothes in tatters. And though her body and Nelly’s were free of burns, ugly welts, keloids and scars, the same could not be said of Nelly’s sisters, or their father who was slumped on the ground, his breath coming in exhausted wheezes, eyeing them all with a thousand yard stare, not looking long for this world.
Of Morgan and Rica’s grandmother, both were conspicuously absent, which to Eric could only mean one thing.
Nelly was holding her father tight and sobbing, begging him to hold on, her two scarred sisters flinching in wide-eyed terror at the collection of cackling humanoids and jaded Administrators leering at them who cared nothing for their fates, one way or another.
Then Rica’s eyes caught Eric’s own. Beautiful brown orbs that lit up like the sun. “Eric! You’re alive!”
Eric swallowed the lump in his throat.
Heart hammering.
He had only known her for a small handful of days.
But when he had held his beautiful Cherokee princess in his arms, cherishing the handful of times they had made love…
he had felt complete.
At peace.
Happy.
Months ago he had been both awed and frightened by the realization that he could have been perfectly happy living his life peacefully by her side… taking up a 9 to 5 job and savoring a perfectly normal life, so long as he got to hold her hand, savor her smile, kiss her cheek… and fill their nights with rapture for them alone.
Even if he never got to savor the sweet hot joy of butchering his foes and leveling up, ever again.
And just looking at the exhausted little girl in Erica’s arms… He would gladly claim Ria as his own. The first of many children who would make up their future family.
Eric had to choke back a sob.
It was a miracle Ria was even alive. The exhausted child squirmed in her mother’s arms, too thin. Far too thin for a baby, and even Aurelia’s gaze bled for the hunger she sensed from the child.
Eric was somehow dead certain that it was only Rica’s status as a Primal Hunter, an Advanced Classer, that had allowed her to produce milk and nurture her child as every mother had throughout human history. Even if beaten, half starved, and tormented in ways Eric dreaded thinking about, even now. And still… it hadn’t been enough.
It would be a miracle of Ria didn’t suffer permanent damage from malnourishment after months of being without anything but what little milk her mother had been able to give her.
And as lethargic as she looked… she too was running out of time.
And a cackling Greed, sensing Eric’s dismay, was now entirely in his element once more. The vicious profiteer who delighted in his victim’s desperation.
“No longer playing the disaffected jaded youth? I knew that was just a facade! Wha—No!”
A tiny sliver of Eric’s awareness thought it impressive, how well the bastard kept his cool when Eric had him lifted up by the lapel of his jacket, his Tier 2 Blaster Rifle aimed at the little shit’s crotch.
But mostly what he felt was a red hot killing fury, his eyes dancing upon the countless snarling mugs and horrified countenances of corrupt administrators and humanoid invaders alike.
How he yearned to kill them all.
Chapter 294 - Negotiating Rule #4: Never underestimate the power of intimidation.
Comments
Goldfish2
Yes! Savor their fear!
Silver Beard
Save those hands!
Silver Beard
mixed on this one. The beat down was fun until the act cracked at the end. Long though :)
