Wake of the Ravager

The obstacle course was an entirely different affair than the other competitions, as there was no interaction with other contestants.

It looks like ninja warrior on crack.

You think it’s too hard? Calvin thought. As they released the contenders in order of ranking, winning the first rounds was no longer an advantage. To be fair, winning never was.

The people later in line watched as the fragomancer tried her best to navigate the obstacle course. She started down the path, skipping through poles, navigating the spinning wheel with ease. Rather than use the salmon bars she just grabbed the sockets and threw herself up the arch, going hand over hand with a look of intense concentration.

“Should I disqualify her?” Calvin’s attendant asked.

“I think the failing is ours for assuming people knew how to use them. Just let the contestants know we’ll subtract ten seconds for anyone who doesn’t use them.”

Why they call them salmon bars anyway?

It’s named after a fish that swims up waterfalls. Not big waterfalls. Little, graduated ones.

Ah. A moment later she hit the balance beam covered in Oozeweaver ooze, courtesy of Calvin. The Not-quite princess’s feet shot out from under her and she let out a startled squawk, tumbling into the vat of slime underneath her. Also courtesy of Calvin.

Farren’s teeth made weird little clicking noises as his daughter gasped for air and hauled herself out of the tub, falling prone on the ground, unable to get her feet underneath her.

The next guy faired much the same.

The third guy did the splits, nutting himself on the beam, much to the delight of the crowd. That guy came out coughing violently, likely having inhaled some slime.

You’re right, this is amusing.

Right? This is an ancient human tradition. They’re probably still playing this in space somewhere.

Baroke, in the middle of the pack, was the first to solve it. He took a running head start, hunkered down and braced himself, the incredibly slick surface carrying him to the end of the narrow beam in a matter of seconds. He grabbed the five second backpack and the four second backpack which weighed a combined nine hundred pound of lead, and continued on his way at full speed.

“Is he allowed to take two of the handicap bags?” The attendant asked.

“Apparently. If a contestant wants to further burden themselves, that’s their business.” Calvin replied.

Baroke went through the rings, tossing himself ten feet between handholds with nine hundred pounds on his back. One of the rings popped loose at the sheer weight, but the giant was able to sling one of the backpacks over the bar before he fell into the slime, to great applause from the audience.

The came the part Calvin was looking forward to. Baroke’s fear of heights.

You thought I forgot, didn’t you? Calvin thought as Baroke looked up at the tower of power. A perfectly vertical obelisk in the center of the arena, at least four stories tall, with inch-deep handholds ten feet apart, and no apparent safety mechanisms.

“Are those ledges rated for eleven hundred pounds?” Calvin’s assistant whispered.

“I guess we’re gonna find out.” Calvin replied with a shrug. “I didn’t make the bastard take two handicaps.”

Baroke leapt fifteen feet in the air and caught the ledge before scrambling up the side of the obelisk like a spider. Calvin could tell his strategy was simply moving faster than his fear of heights could paralyze him, and not looking down.

In a matter of seconds, the behemoth had achieved the top of the tower and stopped the clock, fell to his knees and puked horker sandwich everywhere.

The announcer, a consummate professional, read the result for the audience.

“Grabnar the barbarian, with a time of thirty one seconds, minus nine seconds for handicaps, has a total time of twenty-two seconds!”

The crowd went wild, and Baroke hugged the top of the obelisk, refusing to look down or be moved. The crowd shifted from cheering to laughing as the officials tried to pry Baroke off the obelisk

“Oh, come on, you wouldn’t even sprain an ankle from that height!” Calvin shouted, standing and cupping his hands around his mouth. “You’re fucking tougher than the bedrock, asshole!”

“He fell out of a tree when he was younger,” Calvin said as he spotted the crown prince watching him with furrowed brows and a gaping jaw. “…I had nothing to do with it.”

“That boy can’t be older than twenty.”

“He’s actually closer to seventeen. All that stupid muscle confuses the issue.”

“…How old are you?”

Calvin relaxed control over Kurawe’s body. Go ahead and take this question.

“Old enough to have seen you try to fight the monsters, only to become one yourself, Farren. It’s a shame about your son’s suicide. I wonder if that will inform your parenting from now on, or do you still truly blame the girl? Where is she now, by the way? Rotting in some dungeon?”

Farren went as pale as an Uleisan man could go, his jaw trembling.

He leaned back in his chair and didn’t have any further questions.

Calvin resumed control of the body, sitting back down in the seat.

This casual handoff couldn’t be done without Kurawe’s active participation, because Chained Spirits retained nearly full autonomy and the man’s stability had been higher than his own in life.

It helps that he thinks I’m a living god. After listening to Murak describe Kurawe’s zealotry at length and seeing what the man could do with glass, he’d decided to leave the banker asleep with Kala and Rufe, then headed back down into the pit and Consumed Kurawe’s corpse. Chained Spirit granted a slot every ten levels, after all. It also helped that Polluq and Murak were misinformed as to Calvin’s actual location

Sure does. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

Start a religion with ourselves as a god-king?

Took the words right out of my mouth. Wouldn’t that be awesome? We could spend the rest of our lives being waited on hand and foot by girls in short-shorts. Like Ronny.

Not happening.

Why!? Zealots are so convenient!

Because then I would be a god-king and not a wizard-king.

Oh, you’re right. I almost lost sight of the goal there. Whew. Thanks buddy.

You’re welcome.

Ass.

When they finally dislodged Baroke with the aid of magic and cleaned up the top of the obelisk, the next competitor was set to begin.

With Baroke establishing the pattern, the other competitors quickly raced to beat him. A few went down on the balance beam, but for the most part, the difference was decided by the nine second handicap.

Ella, wearing the three second backpack, wound up only a few seconds behind Baroke.

After her turn, Calvin leaned over to his attendant and had the man bring her up to the royal stands.

“What can I say?” Calvin said, shrugging Kurawe’s shoulder’s. “A guy like me needs large women.”

“I…see…”

Ella showed up a few minutes later, in the middle of the last man’s run.

“Ah, Breanne, a lovely showing. I shamelessly requested your presence in the middle of the competition to admire your beauty.” He held out his bowl of dried fruits. “Care for a date?”

“No.” She said, wincing at Kurawe’s corpulent body.

Well, shit, that joke fell flat.

The last contestant reached the finish and stopped the clock.

“And that’s thirty five seconds, with a five second handicap, making Grabnar the Barbarian the winner!”

Baroke stepped out of the line of finishing contestants, flexing and smiling like he hadn’t been forced off the top of the tower with weapon grade magic. He joined the announcer at the bottom of the tower, and the man held the amplifier in front of him.

“Grabnar, would you like to say anything to the audience?”

“Audience, you’ve been lovely.” Baroke said, grinning and waving to the stands. “To the guy who decided on the height of that tower, eat a huge bag of dicks. A big ol’ bag.”

Calvin broke into a full-throated chuckle.

“And that’s all the time we have!” the announcer said, snatching the amplifier away from Baroke’s face faster than Calvin thought possible, thanking the audience and telling them to remain in the arena for the next event before he shooed the contestants away and bowed out.

Another voice echoed through the arena.

“And now, would you please rise for our salute to our king and his royal family! May they reign eternal!”

The entire audience rose to their feet, Calvin included, as a marching band came through, playing the national anthem on glass instruments. Somehow even the drums sounded pretty good as they belted out their song, the bannermen in front saluting the royal family between flag twirls.

It was all quite grand.

Let’s see, deploy the shrinking as soon as the music comes to a halt and everyone salutes as one. That seems like the appropriate timing.

Kate on the other hand, didn’t seem to care about appropriate timing.

Calvin’s actual body got a minor sensation of disturbed air a second before a knife buried itself in the back of Kurawe’s head.

The giant man toppled forward, twitching. The Legendary rogue didn’t even bother to show herself, slinking away invisibly as Farren and those around them came to their feet.

“Farren, What have you done!?” King Ollust demanded in a moment of pique.

“I had no hand in this.” Farren said, shaking his head and distancing himself from the body, as if being further away could make him seem less guilty.

Which, to be fair, it can.

“He’s telling the truth,” Polluq said, striding out into the stands, emerging from the shadows with a victorious grin, trailing a solid double line of uleisan soldiers

The marching band’s wind instruments cut out with a fart-noise, leaving the arena in silence.

The sound of boots stomping along the glass floors sounded as the entire royal family was surrounded by stone-faced soldiers, and no less than six of the Legend tournament contestants, long with the rest of Matthias’s party.

True to the illusionist’s word, he wasn’t actually attending the coup.

“That imposter,” Polluq said, pointing at the twitching body. “Wanted to disguise his dealing within the royal family as a kidnapping. Ridiculous. If he was an imposter, then there could be more infiltrating the royal family. As the marshall of Uleis, I’ve taken it upon myself to place the royal family under protection until such time as we can be sure no foul shapeshifters remain in their midst.”

See, that’s how you coup. Gotta give the public a half-baked reason and do it publicly so everyone is aware of it. Then you cull them. You totally did it out of order.

Enough back-seat couping from you. Calvin thought. It’s time to blow this fucker’s mind.

As always, Calvin’s little girl body was completely ignored by Polluq and his soldiers as they kept an eye on the royal family.

“Take them away.”

The soldiers stepped forward to put hands on the royal family, who rose in their seats, with intent to resist.

Engage operation shrinky-dink.

Calvin rolled his eyes and dismissed the chained spirit.

The dying summon exploded into green smoke that vanished a moment later, drawing the attention of everyone.

Polluq’s eyes widened.

“He’s not –“

The arena outside the royal stands got bigger. A lot bigger. Large became huge, and then gargantuan as the knick-knack under the platform spun the wheel that forced the two spheres closer together, shrinking everything in direct contact with the platform, and a little more besides.

This included everyone on top of the platform.

They fell for an instant, everyone clutching to their chairs and shrieking as the support beneath them became too big to support the tiny little platform. Then there was a sudden crash, and the floor tried to buck up and break their knees as the massive iron wheels hit the toy-sized track, fit perfectly by the Knick-knacks’ precise eye.

Calvin held out a hand.

Chained Spirit.

31/32 Bent remaining.

“Ladies and Gentleman,” Kurawe said as his skeleton and flesh formed out of green smoke, stepping forward to address them. “For reasons I am not worthy to know, the Ravager has chosen you to advance his cause. Please, for your own safety, keep your seats, and keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times.”

He turned and winked at Polluq.

A young girl shrieked in fright as a titanic Knick-knack loomed over them.

It was actually only a hundred pounder, but it looked like it could knock over a castle like it was made of sand.

Calvin grabbed the nearby seat, fingers white.

Whoosh!

The Knick-knack pushed them down the track, getting them started on their way. Every hundred perceived feet or so, another giant knick-knack gave them a push, speeding them up even further until the gentle curve of the track threatened to unseat them.

A few soldiers fell off the platform from the sudden acceleration, becoming monstrous colossi as they left the field generated by the Unqua beads interacting with the stands. One of them damaged the track as he fell off of it, shearing the glasswork behind them off with his huge bulk.

The track rattled, but continued along, getting faster and faster. After a moment longer, Calvin felt the track begin to straighten out. Here comes the sewer.

“If you would like to hold your breath,” Kurawe said with a smile, “Now’s the time!”

They plunged through the small tunnel the Knick-Knacks had cut into the sewers and continued on their way zooming through the filth-ridden undercarriage of Uleis at a speed that didn’t quite give them an opportunity to get the full experience.

The stench of the sewers buffeted against their faces, poop-laden air trying to force its way into their noses and mouths at over a hundred miles an hour.

“I didn’t think of this!” Calvin shouted to Ella, covering his eyes with his hands.

“Obviously!”

“Maybe this is why Kala didn’t want to come along!”

“You think!?” Ella shouted back.

Thankfully, even Polluq and his men couldn’t do anything but hang on, because Calvin was fairly sure the man had noticed exactly who had summoned Kurawe, and he would seek to take the harmless little girl out of the painting.

In a matter of minutes, they were outside the walls of the city, outside of the sewers in a small tunnel built by the Knick-knacks. The track began to tilt upward, their momentum kept high as the Knick-knacks pushed the further along every time it seemed they might slow.

At last there was a spot of sunlight ahead of them and  a drastic angle change in the track, launching them up and into the hot desert air.

“Whooo!” Calvin shouted, hands in the air as the entire stadium stands and all the royals aboard, regained full size in midair.

For one timeless moment, they were flying through the air, and Calvin could picture himself as a fearless stadium captain, piloting the magic flying bleachers wherever they might be needed.

Then the stands hit the sand dunes, sending up a spray of sand as sheer momentum carried the construction another hundred feet across the fine sand before it finally came to a halt.

As an engineer, I have to say I’m astonished the stands held together so well, I was expected at least a third of them to be violently scattered to the winds.

“Attention Royals! You have been kidnapped!” Calvin said, jumping up onto the railing in front of the stands. “Please do your best to remain calm and seated until I have issued each of you a ‘kidnapped’ stamp! I don’t want to double count anyone.”

…Hmm. I’m not getting the reward for kidnapping them. I wonder why.

Polluq dragged himself to his feet, a welt forming on his brow where something or someone had hit him during the escape. He laughed.

“I never thought you’d succeed, but very little has changed, shapeshifter. Look around you.”

Calvin looked around.

The remaining Uleisan military flanked them on either side, some hundred thousand men and women, give or take.

“Huh.”

“This abomination right here is the one who killed our people!” Polluq shouted, pointing at Calvin. “He murdered fifty thousand of our own and had the audacity to try to usurp our government. Our people!”

“Kurawe, can you reach under your seat and hand me the belts you find there, so I can show these people why you think I’m a god?”

He’s probably going to stop Kurawe from handing my my belts, so I’ll have to rely on Calvinian summoning. I don’t think I can kill this many people with unknown abilities in a straight fight, but if I use wasps and then Stalkers, the complacency aura should let me escape in the chaos.

“You fool, you’re surrounded by Legends!” Polluq crowed. “I’ve assembled every man or woman with more than five Breaks within a hundred miles here to ki-

Polluq’s words were cut off as the massive Genosian warrior standing behind him cleaved the man in half with his crystalline axe.

Silence fell over the crowd as Polluq fell to either side with a splat.

“The fool was going to get half of us killed.” The sharktoothed man said, spitting on the corpse.

“Oh.” Calvin said with a frown as he studied the shivering corpse. “What was your price?”

“You better keep my niece alive long enough to pump out a couple spawn.” The hulking genosian said, pointing at Calvin with his axe.

“Uncle!” Ella shouted.

“Anybody else going to try to stop me?” Calvin asked, glancing around. The stands were quiet. The lines of soldiers on either side of Calvin stood still, sand blowing past their shoes as they watched silently.

“Good.” Calvin said, looking up at the stands full of petrified royals. “Consider yourselves kidnapped.”

Your Princess is in another Castle has reached level 11! 55% Correction.

Your Princess is in another Castle has reached level 12! 60% Correction.

…

Your Princess is in another Castle has reached level 18! 90% Correction.

+1 Stability

Please choose a-

Your Body has reached 9!

Your Body has reached 10!

Your Body has reached 11!

…

Your Body has reached 34!

Calvin’s Body finally stopped ticking upwards at thirty-four.

Damn, only twenty-six princesses among them, eh? Still a pretty good haul. Calvin wasn’t looking forward to the sheer amount of exercise it would take to fill that out.

“And now, by the power vested in me by a shit-ton of paperwork,” Calvin said, fishing in his shirt and pulling out a deed signed by all the appropriate people. “I would like to sell these rights to the largest share of land and businesses to King Ollust, in exchange for…Oh, let’s say those cashews next to your hand.”

Calvin glanced up at the royal family.

“You’re un-kidnapped by the way. I have no further use for you.” He grabbed the bowl of nuts and shoved the deed in the king’s hand.

“Little girl, this is a lease agreement…” King Ollust said.

“Pretend these cashews are worth an entire city,” Calvin said, spinning the bowl in his hand. “I can’t keep track of all these cashews alone. I need someone to administrate the cashews for me. Someone with…public approval.”

“Let me see that.” Kurawe said, reaching over Calvin’s head and yanking the paper out of the King’s hands.

Kurawe scanned through it, chuckling. “Oh, man, Murak is the worst human, but the best at what he does. Yeah, this is fine.” He handed it back to the Uleisan king before giving the ancient man an exaggerated bow. “I look forward to working with you.”

***Baroke***

“Fatherless piece of shit,” Baroke muttered under his breath as he scaled the death trap for the second time that day. Of course Calvin would abduct the entre royal stands and throw the arena into chaos without so much as a ‘bye’.

Baroke didn’t know where the bastard was going, but if there was a place that could spot where he re-emerged, it would be at the top of the tower in the center of the arena.

That and all the stands were choked with panicking civilians, so leaving wasn’t an option, unless he jumped over the arena wall itself.

Baroke finally made it to the top of the tower and scanned the horizon. After a few moments, he made out where Calvin had landed with the entire section of stands.

I wonder if I could clip him from here, Baroke thought, hand twitching toward the miniature bow on his hip. Nah, it’s not worth it.

Shelia joined him at the top of the tower a moment later, following his gaze out into the desert.

“What are they doing? I can’t quite make out any detail.

“Just talking,” Baroke said. A moment later somebody got cut in half.

“Okay now somebody died. And they’re back to talking.

“Is my father okay?”

“I don’t know who your dad is, but only one person got cut in half, and everyone else seems like they’re cool with each other, so…probably?”

After a minute of watching what was going on in the distance, Shelia tugged on his shoulder, pointing out to the west.

“What is that?”

Baroke turned and stared hard at the smudge growing on the horizon. “I…don’t know.”

Macronomicon

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