Leveling up the World

“Going to the countess,” Dallion said as he passed through the outer gate.

A whole garrison of soldiers was stationed there, but no one dared stop him. It was well known that he had been sent on a phoenix hunt, though that wasn’t the only reason. Dallion had deliberately filled his words with dread, making sure it affected everyone in the vicinity, and he hadn’t stopped people alone. Combining music with herbology and his empathy trait, he had made sure that all plants and items experienced the same.

“Yes, sir!” The captain at the gate almost saluted as he stood aside, giving the order to open the gate.

Dallion didn’t even wait, moving forward, as if the obstacle was made of air. His action forced the soldiers to hurry, using their own awakened powers to open the gate fast enough.

You’re acting like a real noble, Nil said as Dallion passed though. In this case, this wasn’t a compliment.

Without a word, Dallion continued on towards the city. It was clear what the echo meant, though at present Dallion didn’t care. Him being nice wouldn’t change a thing—not what had happened in the South, not the war, not even the political game Countess Priscord had started by sending him on this hunt to begin with. If anything, the number of mercenaries focusing on him had increased. On his way back, Dallion had come across several, including the familiar gorgon duo. They had kept their distance, but were still there.

According to Nil, the hesitation was due to the skill gem’s presence. Since Dallion still had the realm of the aetherbird linked to him, that made him appear to have part of the power of a Moon’s familiar. He wasn’t able to use it, of course, but no good mercenary was willing to risk a confrontation in such circumstances.

Hundreds of people were working the fields between the two city walls. No doubt, the countess was stocking up food in preparation for her move against the Archduke, while simultaneously engaging in good relations with provincial merchant guilds. This wasn’t a battle she could win—Linatol had more food and land than her, but she had to be seen as playing. In the end, appearance mattered for a lot.

“Sir!” The guards at the inner gate stood to attention. Some of them Dallion knew relatively well. “The overseer will wish to—”

“I’m heading to the countess’ palace directly,” Dallion cut the man off.

“But…” the guard attempted to voice his concern, but quickly stopped.

“I have something I’m sure she’ll want to see.”

“Understood.” The man gave up. “Go ahead.”

With a nod, Dallion did so. The streets were filled with people, blissfully enjoying their lives as if nothing had changed. From their perspective, the world was the same as it always had been. There was talk of war, but that was something distant that only affected the northern part of the empire. As far as they were concerned, even the rivalry with Archduke Lanitol was practically a game—one which the countess would certainly win, of course.

Ignorance is bliss, Dallion sighed.

There was a time when he had been the same—a sheltered awakened with huge aspirations for whom every day was full of wonder. Back then, the city alone had seen enormous, let along the world. There were so many local challenges, interesting friendships, and things to learn that he didn't imagine he’d ever get bored. Now his enthusiasm had faded. The world seemed small, and Nerosal—like a speck of dust dealing with trivial, insignificant issues.

“Hey, Dal!” A street seller waved at him. When he was starting out, she was one of those who had agreed to give him fruit for free with the promise he’d pay back later. At present, he could buy her stall till the end of her life. “Nice to see you back again. Going to the Timepiece?”

“No, not yet.” Dallion didn’t even bother to fake a smile. “I need to finish something. I’ll be at Hannah’s later.”

“Give her my best! The new girl that she hired has done wonders for the place. You’ll barely recognize it.”

“Sure.” Dallion walked on.

The closer he got to the palace, the greater the number of hidden guards became. All of them were wearing disfocus and blocking items, but that didn’t keep them from being spotted. There was a distinct possibility that some of them belonged to the mirror pool, but Dallion doubted it. The Pool had been in bad standing ever since the countess moved to Nerosal. At best, that had entered an arrangement with her to keep things down until the matter with the Archduke had been resolved one way or another.

The soldiers guarding the palace had doubled since the last time Dallion had been here. All of them were awakened, naturally, though now they had far more impressive levels. Many of them were above level forty, to the point that Dallion expected to come across nobles as well.

“The countess is expecting me,” Dallion said in front of the throne room door.

The four guards standing there didn’t budge. Each of them was wearing clothes of ruby thread and armor of sky silver. One glance at their weapons told Dallion that they were specially forged just for them. On the market, they would fetch a substantial sum even by hunter standards.

“The countess is in her private chamber,” one of the guards said. She was the youngest of the group, somewhere in her early thirties. “She’s expecting you.”

Even now, the countess was making a show of force. No doubt she thought she had the upper hand. Maybe it was true, but if there was something Dallion had learned, it was that she wouldn’t risk having a scene in her own palace. If it ever came out that she had entered in a fight against her champion, the perception of her would suffer.

Dallion split into a hundred instances. A third of them remained where he was, while the rest sprinted along the corridors of the palace. Within seconds, he felt the pressure of someone trying to force split him into a specific outcome, but the attempt was clumsy. Could it be that this was a field in which Dallion surpassed the countess? All nobles could combat split, but it wasn’t everyone’s forte.

Splitting again, he rushed up a tower’s staircase to the room designated as Priscord’s own. Then, without knocking, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Three people were in the room: the countess, Lady Maridold’s granddaughter, and—very much to Dallion’s annoyance—the noble he had clashed with when rescuing Diroh.

“A good effort, my dear,” the countess said to the girl. “No need to feel bad. Dallion has had a lot of experience, after all. If you continue to be diligent, in a few years you’ll be able to surpass him.”

Anger and fear bubbled up within Dallion. Nobles were indeed a terrifying force. The young girl wasn’t even technically a full noble, but the training she had received had allowed her to achieve what had taken Dallion years of real time training. It was clear that the countess meant to humiliate him, and had succeeded.

“Take her to the library,” the countess said. “Dallion and I need to have a private conversation.”

With a spiteful smirk, the noble escorted the girl out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Stay calm, Nil said. You don’t win anything if you start with anger.

For the first time in a long while, Dallion didn’t agree.

“I’ve completed your hunt,” he said. In his mind, he saw himself taking out the bundle of aetherbird feathers and throwing them on the floor. “Here’s your prize.” He split into instances and went through his backpack, taking out the value feathers. “A dozen phoenix feathers. It’s enough to prove that you’ve succeeded.”

The countess kept on looking at him, not saying a word.

“There's no way you could have collected that many by accident.”

After another few seconds of silence, Countess Priscord, split as well. Her speed of her instances was impressive, but Dallion had no issues following what was going on. This was both a test and provocation.

Taking the offering, the countess then returned to her previous spot, all in the blink of the eye.

“Twelve feathers,” she said, counting them. Each of the feathers was identical to the rest, making it beyond doubt that they belonged to the aetherbird. “Too many for me to have gathered on my own.” The countess extended her hand. Instantly, the black form of the overseer emerged in the room, taking hold of the items. “Put them with the rest. They’ll make a splendid addition.”

“The rest?” Dallion asked.

“I wouldn’t have started this without covering all options. In case you died, I was going to use them as proof proving your success. Three feathers would be enough to sow doubt that the Archduke killed you as you were coming to deliver my prize. The feathers, of course, I was to find hidden in your body—a final selfless act.”

“And if I just failed without dying?”

Nothing was said, but everyone knew the answer. It didn’t even seem all that surprising.

“I expect you’d like your reward?” The countess looked at Dallion. “You came a bit sooner than I expected, but the groundwork is done. In a few days, I’ll announce your triumphant return and grant you a noble title. Something small to begin with. You’ll get the real deal once you pass the next gate.”

Is she lying? Dallion asked.

It’s difficult to tell, Nil replied. She doesn’t like you, and nobles don’t tolerate competition. At the same time, she has larger battles to fight, so I suppose it could go either way.

“That’s no longer necessary, countess. I’d prefer some spellcraft cubes, instead.”

“Money?” The noble almost laughed. “You’d choose that over a noble title?”

“There’s something I need to do. Spellcraft cubes will serve me better right now.”

“If that’s your choice.” She waved a hand. “This thing you’re planning to do. Will it affect me?”

“Only in a positive way. I have a few scores to settle outside the Nerosal.”

Etiquette demanded that a hunter not refuse the reward of a patron. His action could be viewed as an outright challenge to the countess’ authority. Dallion had seen nobles be banished for less. Being the ticket to her success gave him some leverage. Even if the countess wanted to publicly crush him, she’d have to wait. By then things were either going to be resolved in his favor, or it wasn’t going to matter.

“I’m just a hunter,” Dallion stressed. “The arena of nobility isn’t for me.”

“Is it, now? Your grandfather would disagree. In fact, he rose quite high. Some would say that he was a step away from Archduke status.”

“Do any of them remember him at all, countess? Even among nobles?”

“No, not most of them.” A dry smile formed on the woman’s face. “I see you’ve learned a thing or two from his mistakes. Of course, if you pass the next gate, we’ll have this conversation again. The only difference would be that it might not be in this palace, and I might be less favorably inclined.”

“I don’t have a choice. It’s a risk I’ll have to take.”

Judging by her lack of expression, now it was the countess who had difficulty determining Dallion’s motives. To complicate things even more, at present he had absolutely no intention of becoming a noble, let alone in name only.

“Give him his reward,” Countess Priscord said, in clear disgust. “If money’s all he wants, that’s what he’ll get. In cubes,” she remarked. “Anything else?”

“No guards watching me,” Dallion said. “They aren’t any good.”

“Aren’t they? I’ll have to make a note of that. As for the rest, I’ll think about it.”