Chương 217: The Human Race Ch. 8-215 – Setting New Courses

Briggs chopped off a lot of heads with Endure in Axe Mode, and did exactly what he said, mounting that multi-ton skull with hanging tentacles right there on the prow of the ship, a truly macabre sight. Of course, most of the tentacles were eaten away by vivus, but it still looked nasty. That he dared to do it and spit in the teeth of the dignity of the kraken was another thing. Let them come up here and protest! The two crewmen were dug out of their little hidey-hole screaming in fear...

which didn't let up much when they saw we were not sahaug, given the appearance of the four of us, and especially me. Everyone knew halvyr were Powered, after all. They started coughing up names, and through ESP, faces, dates, and worse, heaping more shit onto a pile of it that was growing deeper and deeper. All of them had families at home being held hostage against their return. Their families were basically dead if the ship didn't return, or the captain didn't, or their cargo didn't... so, yeah, they were hosed.

It was like the tenth cargo of people they'd taken, too. Not all of them had been Powered, either. At least three times, they'd anchored off islands in the South Pacific, and the captain had gone out to negotiate with things out there, and crates made out of something that wasn't wood were traded to them for helpless humans, who were dragged off to some unknown fate.

After they told us everything they could, including about Hong Kong and the situation there, Sama was still smiling in a friendly manner when she took off their heads painlessly, and they died and were reduced to white, drifting ash. I Waterjumped back to Baja, then Teleported to Baltimore, where a retired ship captain with the confidence he could pilot the vessel had formed an ersatz crew of old merchant marines, with some young volunteers.

One Mass Reduction, a Teleport, and a Waterjump later, and the somewhat dizzy men were coming up aboard the Rokugunate to pilot her north and deliver her cargo to safer hands. Briggs said he would go along to make sure there were no unforeseen problems. A swimming sahaug couldn't possibly keep up with a ship over time, even a freighter like this, so I wasn't worried about him being intercepted by the guilty parties coming back.

There were already efforts being made to receive them in Baja, and from there, Briggs promised to head back to Hermitage and start some serious training in the compound that was going up there... and he was going to arrange a seaside facility to train Forsaken who hit Seven and got their Vajras on how to fight in the water. I knew the motivation for men to learn how to fight the Sahaug and Deep Ones in their own element was going to carry across the globe.

Powered could potentially do it, but no one really wanted to. It had to be done military-style, a goal and an aspiration for the most elite of the Forsaken, and then start drafting in and specially training some Powered to help. But at some point, we were definitely going to mess the bastards up.

Sama was delivered to Matarani by Master Fred and I. She vanished into the city, her hair black, skin and eyes as brown as the natives, but with a lot more murder in her than most of them. If there were Cultivators in the Chinese quarter, she would literally sniff them out, but she had a lot of names to investigate there. There were also a lot of people there clamoring to join my Allegiance, having heard about it from church contacts in the north.

I had to spend a couple hours admitting faithful of the Church to the Allegiance, raising a Banner there in the small church of Sylune (which was likely going to get a LOT more attendance and support soon), and giving out Blessings to really reward those who came to me and wanted to help. Fighting this kind of evil was the sort of thing all people were meant to do... but this level of wickedness was coming from within, and from our own kind, not from the undead who everybody was looking at.

Sama started recruiting more, too. It wasn't as easy for her as it was for me, but her Marked started to grow, too... almost as fast as the bodies started to pile up. Before she was done, the Chinese Quarter was maybe a Chinese Sixteenth, and she had stumbled onto a Mafia operation of truly impressive proportions run by Imprus, Huul, and Shoul devotees among the wealthy families and military of Peru dealing in human traffic to enrich themselves and cow the population.

They were dealing openly with Cultivators to get rid of potential malcontents and rebels, and the Deep Ones to make their enemies and criminals vanish, all just a part of doing business. As Sama noted, it was real hard to rule or inherit without your head. The Peruvian Powered, many of them employed by the junta and mafia families, suddenly found the entire country turning against them, including ALL the Good churches and the druidic Shamans of the countryside.

Their own soldiers started rising in revolt and shooting their officers as suddenly information started spreading and coordinating in the country with damning speed, deeds were made known, guilt allocated, and a full-blown civil war erupted in less than a week from the time Sama set foot on shore. None of which surprised me, although the later fact it was a month before the President's head vanished between bedtime and sunrise one fair night did: I expected the former general to be dead much, much sooner.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Individually, the Powered could certainly take down any normal soldiers with breathtaking speed... except when the clergy started intervening, and holy war erupted among the churches. Lots of soldiers not obeying their officers, seizing weapons and shooting said officers with them, was also a bit of a downer for the Peruvian government...

I also Waterjumped back to Baja once the ship arrived, to literal worldwide attention as the paralyzed tribesfolk were lifted out. I used the Song of Life to heal each of them by touch, one by one, breaking them out of their poisoned paralysis and back to motion, surrounded by understanding White Hands there to help them... making sure to use magic to adjust my skin color first so they didn't think I was a devil while healing them.

"So, what do you think of the vacation now?" I asked Master Fred, as we finally headed south once more, leaving behind a nation just starting the throes of revolution. -I think my definition of vacation has yet to properly adjust to match yours, - he /admitted. -I still can't believe you recruited Shvaughn. - -On my end or hers? - He paused to think that over, an endearing habit of his, listening to the interplay of Heaven and Hell on his Pacts. -Both? What was your mindset?

- - She's much too powerful to be an attack dog unleashed upon mine enemies. She's a Hell Hound, and she totally understands being the dark underhand against the dark for a greater cause. She's already Damned, she knows it, and doesn't mind doing the work at all. She's also going to save a lot of lives and smooth a lot of things out, all while making people think they are doing it themselves. - -She is very good at the game, - he /admitted.

-I hesitate to ask who she has Consumed in the past, but I'm pretty sure royalty is among them. - -She's the last four Queens of England and the Princess of Monaco, - I /informed him, and he blinked despite himself. -King Charles calls her up occasionally for advice. She alluded to being other members of royalty, taking them on their deathbeds. She also sweeps their lineages, attendants, and paramours regularly for imposters, infiltrators, and shapechangers of all sorts.

- -I imagine being able to call up and talk to your dead mother for advice is a terrible temptation for the living, as well as knowing they are not in the Shroud, - he /sighed. -Or, you could talk to the mother of your rivals. I gather she serves as an ambassador at times? - -Indeed. She wants to recruit suitable members of the noble families in Europe under me... and possibly some not-so-suitable members under herself. - -She's already a Warlock Queen, and is working on being a Shadow Empress?

- He identified the ploy immediately. -Given how she's going to be de facto ruling through proxies in Peru shortly enough, the process has begun. Having Heavenbound to bounce off solutions for all her subjects to prosper, instead of playing this off against that, will be helpful for the balancing situation. - -Her experience in rulership alone will no doubt be useful, especially when she takes it from those who had it there previously. How did Sama take her presence? - -She came up with the Hell Hound appellation.

Shvaughn just laughed. - -She would, - he /admitted. -Shvaughn's driving motivation is to stay alive, it trumps all else. Being invaluable and helping run the world in a positive manner is a great way to help do that. - -Yes. She is acutely aware that there is stuff Outside the Shroud that is inimically hostile to the planet, too, and is aware she cannot fight them alone. She doesn't want to just run, either, as the threats never truly go away.

- -There are too many forces who will be looking for her for the Pacts she's stolen, if nothing else. - He smiled slightly. -I understand that she's taken to wearing a Vivic Siphon? - -She delivered the Receptacle to Heavenbound Hall herself; it's being used as the basis for the Master Receptacle in Penitent's Hall. She's effectively pouring in 11d6 to it all day, whenever she isn't using the Wrath herself. I reimbursed her for the goldweight cost, of course. - -Of course.

That was an extraordinary idea, offering Dark Warlocks who'd had enough a potential way to gaff their Pacts. - -That was just profiteering on my part, I'm afraid. The real power was leaking the fact that cycling Pacts costs their Patrons the souls attached to them while under the Shroud. So, get a Dark Pact, do Good deeds, die, and if the Pact gets re-used, they don't get your soul. - He blinked again. -The Patrons are basically putting a freeze on new Pacts?

- -And trying to make sure the ones who have them are Damned, even if they lose them. Which naturally takes a great deal more time and effort on their part, especially with Penitent Hall's offer right there on the table. If the Pactbearer revolts, what can they do? Kill them, and then cycle the Pact, losing their soul anyways? - -And if the Shroud goes away, and the massive net loss of power from Dark Pacts becomes obvious, the Pacts might be cancelled, and they can lose them anyways!

The only souls they are guaranteed to get are the ones who have already died whose Pacts have not yet cycled! - he /realized, pleasantly impressed. -Quite cunning, Lady Traveler! - - Not my idea, I borrowed it from Terra-Luna. They started using it to manage the populations of Dark Warlocks, much to the dismay of many Pact Grantors.

While on the macro scale losing all that power is infinitesimal, in real terms, hundreds of Warlocks siphoning your power away to strengthen your enemy constantly, all the time, day and night, starts to really add up on a planetary scale. -Allowing the Warlocks to still profit while doing so is just gravy. - -And turns Sinbound, Hellsworn, and Demonchained into productive members of society. - He was definitely amused. -Very clever. Who thought of it? - -The Warlock Grandmaster, Sole.

He was getting tired of killing Dark Warlock cults popping up among the greedy who didn't get any magic powers, and decided to take a different tact. The fools who took the Pacts could make money, save their souls, and piss off the Dark Powers at the same time. Killing the outraged Pact Patrons granting them juice if they came to confront the Pactbound was much more fun than wiping out balding fat men who wanted powers, or teenagers lusting for anime magic of their own.

-The Penitent are actually a fairly influential force in some ways back home. Broad vivic inundation of an area really helps with crop yields, and in making magical Architecture and such things. - -I imagine they get idiots thinking there's no risk in taking such a Pact if they can do such a thing, then. - -Of course, there will always be fools not considering what might happen if the Grantor grits their teeth and just waits for you to die. It might take a century, but it does send a message.

- -And hopefully dissuades other fools. - - Bob the Sinbound Penitent has been dutifully fulfilling his job as a repentant Warlock for thirty-seven years, and Sin has still not let go of his soul. Do you want to be the same? - I mock-quoted...