Chương 206: A Few Problems

"Apprentice-tier…" Drywsone said, scratching his chin.

"I can't exactly detect what the Skill is named, but it would have to be something in the language of the old Empire. It's a swordsmanship style."

"None of us can use sword Skills," I lamented.

"I can save it for the other squads," he said.

"Pork's squad has a sword-wielding Dupe in it."

"Yes, let's do that."

"Now, let's see," Drywsone replied.

"With all that fungu-leather you brought in, I can have one of my apprentices fashion something for your healer that boosts attributes. I can boost the attributes of a regular Path-walker, still, miss." Sage looked down, like she was embarrassed to have people making clothes for her. I whispered, "Is something wrong?"

"It's fine," she replied.

"Apologies, Drywsone. Yes. Perhaps you could make a new mantle for me, some gloves, and some bracers? And perhaps an outer coating for my legs, if there's any extra?" He glanced back at the corpse of the mushroom lion we'd dragged up.

"There's more than enough, my lady."

"Then I will order that, please." I glanced behind me, making sure there was no line, then said, "Drywsone, there's something I'm curious about."

"Yes?"

"How did the old empire put Skills on their weapons if the System didn't exist back then?"

"What you're feeling is a reverberation. It's not truly a Skill. It's an echo of its old owner, someone who cherished the item. The System has infested those cherished weapons over the ages, and it has converted those reverberations into Skills. But they were not naturally imprinted on the weapons in the Age of Laurels."

"Ah," I said.

"Thanks, then."

"Any time." After that, we scattered. I returned to my room, and tried not to obsessively check my reading slate, but I couldn't help myself. My other stats hadn't grown nearly as quickly this week, but my Perception had gained seven points in a matter of days, and my Focus had gained six. That was the first time that my Perception had the greatest growth of all my stats. As I was putting the reader away, something knocked on my door. I turned my head to the side.

"Who is it?"

"Sir Sidal. Lord Ceonwin requests a meeting with you."

"Yes, sir. I will be there immediately." ~ ~ ~ I pushed the door to Lord Ceonwin's office open slowly, only to find him facing the window. He looked out over the castle, arms crossed.

"My lord, you summoned me?"

"Close the door, please."

"Yes, sir." I pushed it shut, then stepped up behind him.

"What's wrong?"

"Many things. Where shall I begin?" He set his hands down on the window sill, head drooping. I didn't think a Gold could look tired, but he did.

"You were looking into who in Steelshore might be able to manipulate the Labyrinths, sir?"

"Yes." He glanced back at the door one more time, as if to make sure it was actually closed, then whispered, "I don't know precisely who, but there is a single man in Steelshore who seems behind most of the manipulations. A blood sorcerer."

"A cultist?" I asked.

"It's the only explanation."

"Did Abacus tell you what he told me?"

"I assume so. About Tunmod funnelling funds to Steelshore, funding the cultists and the Subtle Men?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

"So that means we can assume whoever is running the Labyrinth hub in Steelshore is also involved with the Subtle Men and the cults." The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Correct." I dipped my head again.

"Is there anything we can do with that information?"

"It brings us that much closer to uncovering the culprit," Lord Ceonwin said.

"If we wish to help Hinlaw's Domain and Southern Gate as a whole, we will need to find this individual and slay him."

"And we're sure it isn't Hinlaw himself?"

"Hinlaw isn't that influential, nor is he a blood sorcerer. No, this is a man holding Hinlaw's leash." I stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to think about what I'd do. I could kill Hinlaw, but he was taking his orders from this man. It wouldn't be as easy as deposing Tunmod. But one thing at a time. First, I had to deal with Hinlaw and his heirs, and I had to become an Ealdorman myself. Then I could deal with whoever this shadowy leash-holder was.

"What else was there that you needed to tell me?" I asked. There was something else, right? He'd made it seem like there was.

"We've contained the pressure of the latest orc attack, but we suspect another is coming soon," he said.

"If it's a choice between deploying you and continuing your training, I would deploy you. Alas, no one else, not even the Drillmaster, would approve that decision. Too many of you are likely to die, and too soon, ruining any investment they made in you."

"So they're letting the front lines fall?"

"We don't know how bad it will be." I scowled. Not this, not again.

"Something tells me the orcs won't take any risks, considering how we held them off last time despite being outnumbered. They'll send enough to overwhelm us for sure." Lord Ceonwin shook his head.

"Perhaps it is for the best, then, that we don't deploy the trainees. There is nothing you could do to change the outcome. Even if every orc you face is an Iron, five hundred Irons can bring down a Silver. We will get no support, and our best soldiers are still in training."

"Alright, but there has to be something you can do." I stepped back. Although I wasn't one for pacing, even I couldn't help it right now.

"I get it, it doesn't make sense to get some of us killed before our training is complete, especially with all the resources you've put into us. But there are still plenty of senior sappers here who you could deploy."

"Your trainers?"

"No— Well, I suppose with all the combat masters here to help us, yes, you could probably deploy the lieutenants and be fine. You also still have plenty of guards hanging around the castle." Lord Ceonwin looked out into the distance.

"Perhaps. I will bring it up with the Drillmaster. It may allow us to hold on for longer. But our fall was engineered from within long ago. The front lines will bleed, and the orcs will make the coming winter especially tough, hoping to starve us within our walls."

"If the Warlord engineered it, all the more reason to hold on to what we can for as long as we can. Disrupt his plans. Protect Slowbend. Send some of the lieutenants there, and do your best to hold onto it. If Slowbend survives, it will make it easier to retaliate and restore the front line." I paused.

"We built walls around those cities for a reason. If they won't do anything, then what's the point?" Lord Ceonwin snorted.

"Yes, you are correct. But Levi, you must remember: the important battles will not take place in the south. Nothing will change if you cannot dethrone the Warlord."

"I don't want these Domains to fall, either, though."

"Neither do I. We will fight to the last man to hold the lines."

"What about the masters training us? We have Emeralds here—""Not all of them," Lord Ceonwin said.

"Only Moonhand. The rest are Golds."

"He fought alongside Aelfwine. Surely, he would still fight alongside us." Lord Ceonwin turned to me with a grim expression.

"They didn't come here expecting to fight. Most of them are loyal to the Warlord. I could not say where they will fight or why, and I wouldn't trust them to follow our plans, anyway. They're more likely to stab us in the back than to fight for us." I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Even Moonhand?"

"I don't know where his allegiances lie. We cannot rely on him in any plan we make." I sighed.

"Fine, then. But promise me you'll try to get some of the castle guards deployed. Don't just sit on your hands and say, 'It is what it is.'

""I will speak to the Drillmaster, Levi, and that is a promise. But don't expect them to change the flow of the Path." He walked over to his desk and sat down behind it.

"The last bit of bad news is far more personal to you."

"My lord?"

"The Drillmaster urged me to warn you about your Art. I was not aware of this issue in Dupes, but your internal leys were never intended to experience such a high Presence draw from a single Art. If you increase the tier of [Mass Hammer] any higher, if it reaches Expert-tier, using it will cause substantial damage to your arcane connection. It will cost exponentially higher Presence to use with each tier, and the draw would be too much. Your leys would rip, and you could become like Shatter."

My body went cold, and my eyes widened.

"Truly?"

"Your options are thus: you could choose not to ever advance it any higher, or you could temper it and seek to make it…less potent for its tier, in exchange for a lower Presence draw. But Advanced-tier is still a very, very high tier for any Dupe, and any Dupe with an Art would be proud to wield [Mass Hammer]."

"Sir, you know I can't accept that."

"You may end up destroying yourself, then. If you accept those as the scars of war, then so be it."

"What actually happens?"

"The Drillmaster thinks you could, potentially, destroy the Labyrinth nodes inside your body. They would crack under the strain. To replace them would rip out your entire arcane connection and force you to start from the very beginning—assuming you survived the surgery in the first place." I shook my head.

"Sir, I'll think of something."

"There isn't always a way around these things, Levi. You may have to accept the weakness." I snorted."

'Nothing can be done,' as usual. We'll see about that." Lord Ceonwin drummed his fingers on his desk.

"Don't say you weren't warned. You are dismissed."