Chương 89: Chapter 81 - Paperwork

++There are many ways to acquire an ally, and if one ensures that the ally has no choice but to remain allied then so much the better. ++ - From the writings of Isabel Vornholt, 'The Great Lich'. 1, 891 A. E. I was first made aware of the idiot priestess fainting when I heard her body collapse beside me, and after taking a moment to make sure she had not somehow managed to fracture her skull on the ground—that would be so very typical of my luck—I ignored the slumbering moron to focus back on the Demigod.

He took it in stride as well, and answered me without a moment's delay.

"Of course," he replied eagerly.

"Not immediately, naturally, I would sooner wait for her to grow and master her powers. The better a fight she is, the more glorious the act of claiming her soul will be." And the more pragmatic, increasing the power he took from the event. I had learned that much from the Demigods of my age long ago. Some of them may still exist, I realised suddenly, though by now they would be powerful and prominent enough that I doubted they would ever interact with lowly magicians. This one was a big enough concern already.

"I would like to claim this girl as my assistant for however long it takes before she becomes suitable," I told the Demigod.

"She is, as you have noticed, magically gifted, and was trained in the arcane arts of Orapathaqi's priesthood." His eyes narrowed.

"You'd ask me to let a living weapon roam around my city, with only one girl to watch it?"

"No," I assured him.

"When I first encountered her, I believe she attempted to use magic to attack me. I felt her power gather, but nothing came of it."

"So she's some moron without any control?"

"I do not think so. More likely, she is just not trained in combat magic and was not able to master her powers under high stress. She is a coward and does not strike me as being likely to cause issues unless directly provoked, which I do not intend to do." He was weighing my request, I could see, and coming down on the side of denying it. That simply would not do.

"Other soldiers have been given girls to keep with them for less reason than this, especially officers and magicians." A nasty smile crossed his face.

"Are you old enough to know what they're using those girls for?" I let my disgust show for once, figuring that it would get my point across.

"Yes. But that does not change that there is already precedent for allowing others, others who have performed less than myself, to do as I am requesting now." The Demigod was a whole in deciding before he finally nodded.

"Fine, consider this a test. Keep an eye on her though, you hear me?"

"Yes, I will. Thank you, your Divinity." I was getting quite good at hiding my contempt for my inferiors, even, apparently, the very servants of the worms. Nu'chista appeared to notice nothing wrong and turned from me, which I took as my cue to leave. With a gesture I lifted the idiot girl off the ground to drag her behind me on an aether sled, though I got only a few paces away before Nu'chista called after me again.

"Your brother did well, too, didn't he girl?" he asked.

"I've heard a lot of tell of his exploits. Fighting at the front line, powering through danger. Except he didn't disappear after the initial breach, like you did. If you're expecting to ride his coattails for the rest of your time in my army, you can think otherwise." I had expected this, partially engineered it in fact. It would not benefit our family much for me to be known as a renowned battlemage, but if I could let Agrian acquire that same reputation…well, a man known for such things would go far.

"I understand, your Divinity," I nodded humbly. Nu'chista eyed me for a long moment more, then nodded curtly.

"You're dismissed. Oh, but you can't have a servant signed with the army under your name. It'll need to be someone of age, your brother, how old is he?" I hesitated.

"Twenty," I replied.

"Though only five months away from twenty one." The Demigod rolled his eyes.

"Infuriating, they're sending legal children to fight for me. Fine, I'll handwave it this once. Your brother was hit by an aging spell and is however many months you said older Nobody can figure out how it works and, uh, all the magicians swore a vow of silence about it out of shame, or something. Now begone." If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

He did not need to tell me twice, and I moved away as fast as I could without making it clear I was hurrying. The books were still awaiting me. My new servant woke up halfway through the journey and started doing that irritating thing humans do when they are panicked.

"Stop that," I snapped. But she did not, just kept breathing in and out like her lungs were the bellows of a forge. I tried to ignore it, and then she made even that impossible by speaking.

"Am…Am I going to be sacrificed?" I rolled my eyes.

"You would not be with me if you were, would you? Think, idiot…" I hesitated, then felt my temper rising again. I was not the Lich King in this new age, it would benefit me to pretend to be nice.

"... Sorry, what I meant to say is you have not been scheduled for sacrifice, and you are instead safe and under my protection." Should I have called her 'my little cupcake'? I was not sure, but decided not to. I had never caught either of my parents referring to their own servants in that way, so it was probably not appropriate. Unless they were just unconventional in that regard.

"Under your protection, meaning what?" the girl asked me, not seeming the least bit grateful. Good. People who fawned over those who controlled them were some of the most infuriating things alive.

"Meaning you are being registered as my servant, essentially under my employ. You will be paid some wage by the army and permitted housing in my accommodations wherever we stay. In theory you will be expected to cook and clean for me, but I am more interested in your cooperation regarding magic." She said nothing, and I actually looked down to check she was still there. She was, though glaring at me.

"I'm a slave, you mean?" she asked.

"Slavery was outlawed in Garamon some fifty years ago," I noted idly.

"Indentured servitude has all the same benefits, but is more appropriate for a modern economy." Her disgust was palpable, another point in her favour.

"If you dislike captivity, then rather than sulk about it, focus on gaining in strength. You are one of the most gifted magicians I have ever encountered, if you do not even have the will to harness that in search of independence then frankly you deserve servility." I was certainly practicing what I preached, even if I could not afford to go around letting other people know that just yet. The girl was far from mollified by that, but I sensed her bitterness giving way to pragmatism as we continued.

Before long we were back at the warehouse, and by then she was walking alongside me.

Agrian felt strong hands wrap around him, holding him still. Their grips were like a dozen vices and their strength left no room at all for negotiation. His head was grabbed, tipped back, face pressed as the container touched his lips and the poison poured itself down his throat. He gagged, spluttered, but kept drinking. He had no choice. It was this or defeat, and Agrian Vornholt the Younger did not permit defeat.

In mere moments the keg was empty, half in his belly and half soaked into his clothing, and Agrian heard a great cheer erupt as his comrades released him and let it fall.

"IN ONE!" Paklin Dup roared, as enthusiastic as he always was about drinking and never was about anything else. He slapped Agrian warmly on the back. A bit too warmly, as it happened, because this was what triggered Agrian's body to heave forward and retch out some large portion of the drink it had taken in. His eyes were watering and his ears were ringing by the time he straightened back up, but he did so with a grin.

"I told you!" he laughed.

"I fucking told you all!" Was he slurring his words a bit? No, Agrian could understand them all perfectly, must've just been his imagination. The tavern around them was getting louder by the moment, and already it stunk of sweat and drinking. The sensations incentivised much more drinking to keep from noticing them. Agrian had never really done a pub-run before.

The Winzorth Institute was very particular about not letting its students run amok, apparently there'd been far too many incidents regarding drunken usage of magical powers in the past for the people of Laugrey to tolerate. This wasn't Laugrey though, nor was it Garamon. This was Estalia, and with the city burning around them already nobody seemed to give much of a toss what happened if a few magicians got overzealous and overexcited drinking together.

Which was why Agrian's throat currently felt like he'd spent the last hour swallowing chunks of jagged granite. It was worth it though, because the sore feeling in his gullet was nothing to the warm buzz in his mind. This wasn't like sipping father's port, not at all. Around Agrian, there was music blaring from about five different instruments all competing for the spot of loudest.

The tavern was a wreck; chairs and tables strewn about to forcibly clear a space in the centre, where people now danced exactly like drunkards stumbling around and bouncing off each other. Years of artificial order at the Winzorth Institute made the whole affair impossibly refreshing, and Agrian couldn't get enough.

"Agrian." Funny, he thought he could hear his sister's voice somehow. Maybe that was a good indicator to lay off the drink. Agrian smirked, went for another swig, then realised with a start that his coattail was on fire. He yelped, beating the flames out and looking around in disbelief as he saw Isabel standing beside him, drawing her hand back. The hand that had ignited him.

"You ignored me," she said, accusatory.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Agrian yelled.

"You. Ignored. Me." He knew his sister wouldn't listen to reason, even now with enough alcohol to kill a horse pumping through his veins.

"What the fuck do you want?!" he groaned, suddenly finding the music far more annoying than fun. Had it always been so damned headache-inducing? Isabel said something he didn't quite catch, and Agrian's irritation just mounted.

"What?!"

"I need you to sign some papers for me," she told him.

"I have already prepared them, they just require your signature." The thought of mastering a pen, let alone on Isabel's behalf after being interrupted so rudely, left Agrian rather reluctant to do anything for her.

"I'll do it later," he told her. Isabel arched an eyebrow.

"Oh my sweet Princess, the apple of my eye, I see your deft fingers move in class like truth to a lie. You—" Agrian realised slowly, in his drunkenness, that he was hearing his own teenaged love poetry about Paula quoted, and he reacted a good deal fucking faster upon registering that.

"Outside," he snapped. She led him out and spoke only when they were a good few paces away from the pub, its walls muting the noise. Mostly.

"The papers are ready, as I said," Isabel insisted.

"You just need to sign them."

"Fine, give them here." A world away from home and he was still being bossed around by his little sister, typical.