131 – Return of the Tenth Vessel

Mal sat down at his office chair at the back and Hemp sat at his right hand. The representative sat on the other end.

"So, can I get a name, or should I refer to you as gray robe guy in my head?" Mal said.

"You have not yet proven worthy of my name. Though I am a humble servant of the Four Quarters, I have some dignity to me."

And you have none, was the secondary, hidden part of that statement.

A brief look of irritation crossed Hemp's face. Mal kept his cool and leaned back in his chair.

"So what brings you here, Gray Robes?"

Gray Robes smiled, revealing his perfectly white teeth.

"We had an arrangement with the previous leader of the Black Quarter. Though he was a part of the Four, he was still the lowest. He provided tribute to the other three, and the system worked quite well."

"But?"

"But you've gone and usurped him. Now understand, we had no personal attachment to the man. He was scum. But he was scum that we could trust to behave. Now you've gone and put us in a very difficult position, because we don't know what to make of you, Lord Patoal."

"I'm not nearly as complicated as you think."

"Within a single day, you overthrew a member of the four quarters," Grey Robes said. "You solidified your grasp on this place. We tried to embed moles into your organization. Tt didn't work. We tried to embed moles into the buildings around you. they were ratted out by the civilian population, who seem to hold you in the same esteem they would hold a god. The more I learn about you, Mr. Patoal, the more I worry about the safety of the other Three Quarters."

"You said it yourself. The guy who ran this place before was an idiot." Hemp snorted and placed her feet on the table. "Sounds to me like you should be thanking my boss for cleaning up this part of town."

"Ah, lady Hemp." Gray Robes inclined his head at her. "We've also heard much of you. An astonishingly talented physical combatant and highly gifted in administration. The backbone of Lord Patoal's organization."

Hemp's sneer disappeared, replaced by a wide-eyed expression. Her cheeks reddened, and she looked up at the ceiling.

"Oh, yeah. Well, you know. It's not that hard, just gotta—"

Grey Robes looked away from her and back at Mal. "You managed to obtain her loyalty after she stole from you. You managed to obtain the loyalty of the leader of a very skilled mercenary group. Not only that, but you're training something of an officer corps."

Mal tilted his neck. "So?"

"So I'll have to remove you."

Silence.

Mal shifted his foot, and the sound might as well have been as loud as a catapult going off.

"I have no interest in the other three quarters," Mal said, face perfectly straight. "Our army looks professional merely because Norin trains them that way. That's all."

The representative hummed. "That sounds plausible. But you must understand that I cannot take your word for it."

"You require a guarantee. I understand it."

He glanced at him. "Hemp, give them half of our reserves."

Hemp's jaw dropped. "What?"

"You heard what I said. And from here on out, we're going to be giving them ten percent of our monthly income."

Hemp stood up from her chair, the seat squeaking as it went back. "Boss, you can't be serious!"

"I am serious. Get to it."

Hemp's hands trembled before she clenched them and nodded. She turned around and left toward the edge of the warehouse.

The representative's eyes had widened through the exchange. He looked at Mal with something that almost approached respect.

"I had expected from your behavior that you would tell me to leave," Grey Robes said. "You're a talented man, Lord Patoal, and you built this empire from the ground up. Your type doesn't typically concede so easily."

"I'm merely looking toward the long term," Mal said. "I have two options. I could wage a fruitless war against the other three quarters and end up in a ditch for doing so—or I could prove that I'm the sort of person who understands when he's beat, and understands how to be useful to those around him."

"Ah, you seek to become their peer, not to replace them." Gray Robes stroked his chin. "A far more intelligent way of going about things. Yes, Lord Patoal, very wise indeed."

Mal stood up, Grey Robes followed. The two shook hands.

"Lucretius," the gray robes said. "That's my name, I mean. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Patoal."

Hemp walked over to the desk and tossed a bag onto it. It clunked with a heavy thud when it hit the table. The representative picked it up and slid it underneath his robes.

"Have a good day, Lord Patoal."

And then he left the building, footsteps trailing with soft clicks against the stone.

Hemp growled and locked eyes with Mal, teeth bared.

"What the hell was that?!" She said. "When did you turn into the sort of yellow-bellied shit stain who'd roll over at the first sign of resistance? Ten percent? Ten percent! I—"

"Are you going to keep ranting or are you going to let me explain?"

Hemp stopped, sucked in a breath, then plopped herself down into her seat. "Speak fast."

"The White Quarter is going to have access to mages who've completed the full six-year program, often with years of extra schooling on top of that. As we are now, we stand no chance—not even Norin. Just one of those monsters would be enough to wipe us to shreds. They probably have a good dozen."

"So we just give up?"

"No. We play our cards smart. We play the part of the conciliatory types. Then, when the momentum is right—we strike. I'll personally take the head of whoever's running the White Quarter."

"It'll take years for you to match their strength, won't it?"

"As an organization, yes. But I have some vague ideas for how we'll gain some allies. I've built inroads with both the church and the school. It'll take time, and I think we need a few more people to round out the set, but the other three quarters will be destroyed."

Hemp's shoulders sunk, and she breathed out a sigh.

"You really had me going there for a second." She looked over at the table, where the outline of the bag from its weight had imprinted into the table. "And what about that—ten, five percent, or whatever it was you said—?"

"Half a percent, at most. Whatever you think would be enough to fool them. They don't know the full scope of our operations, remember? He admitted it. He might have been lying, but I don't think so. And I think even if he does know we're not telling the truth—it'll be hard for him to pinpoint by how much."

A smirk rose on her face. "This sounds more my speed."

"Mark my words. They'll all be finished within a year. We just have to be patient."

The winter solstice had arrived, and Mal had never felt so unprepared.

It's not even snowing. What kind of winter is this?

Mal adjusted the extra cloak he'd added on top of his robes. Snow or not, it was freezing out in his dormitory backyard. He'd gone and set up everything that he needed for the ritual. A bowl. Chunks of ice made by setting water outside in the cold, and a red candle in a candle holder.

Mal placed the ice in the bowl and sat next to it. He lit the candle, and placed it adjacent to the bowl so that the flame's reflection was visible in the ice.

"The season changes," Mal said. "The winter blows, I hail the spring light that returns to the land. May your rays warm us, and change ice to water, cold to warmth, snow to rain, then winter to spring once more."

I hate that this works.

Mal watched the way the heat shifted and turned between the candle and the ice and wax. If he wasn't deluded, he could have sworn that he saw Fire-type mana moving from the candle to the ice.

Before long, it was completely melted. He picked up the bowl, then walked over to the base of a tree and poured the water out. It soaked into the ground and disappeared.

Mal stood there, vaguely bored when—

A wave of pain washed over him and he gripped the back of his head. He dropped to his knees and clenched his eyes shut to ride it out. He felt a presence brush against his mind and froze.

Golial? he thought.

The presence yelped at that, some strange sound of indignation. Before Mal could stop it, the presence entered his mind, and something poured into him.

He opened his eyes.

He blinked.

He blinked again.

Nothing had changed.

Okay, well that was a letdown.

After a minute of scratching his head, he turned around and walked toward the front of his dormitory. He bumped into somebody.

"Sorry."

He stopped and turned to face the person he bumped into.

They were dressed in the typical school robes of Exodi Academy, but there was something else.

Mal could see the mana moving through their body.

He shut his eyes and focused on the pain in his pupils, when he opened them, the mana was gone. He shut his eyes for a second time and did the same thing, then the mana came back when he opened them.

He could see mana through people's bodies now.

He watched as the mana inside of the person pivoted to the left. A second later, the person turned to the left.

Mal could predict people's movements through the movement of their mana.

This'll be handy.

"What do you mean Puck won't be there?"

Mal shifted against the seat.

"One of the other vessels has started up trouble in the capital city," Vigil said. He adjusted his leg, the metal prosthetic clicking internally.

The three of them were inside of Vigil's office, Igna to the side.

"Why is he gone?" Mal said.

"The king was so spooked that he sent for a teleporter and got Puck there to deal with the situation. He won't be back for another few days."

"So, why are we continuing the matches? Shouldn't we just stop it and wait for Puck to return?"

"If we don't do it now, they'll just attack when we're not expecting them," Igna said. "The plan is the same. You have to fight with Rolam on the final day of the Exodi Triumph."

"Do you think the both of you will be able to take on a vessel?" Mal said. "And what about all of the necromantic creatures that he's probably made?"

"We don't have any other choice. We've made preparations the best we can. The church managed to get that specialist unit to us. They're in the city right now, but they can get up to the Academy at a moment's notice."

"You realize this is a terrible idea," Mal said.

Without Puck, they'd lost the strongest card in the deck.

"We can't rely on Puck for everything," Vigil said. "He's only one man, even if we kept him on standby at the academy indefinitely. The vessels would just change their target to the capital city."

Mal chewed his lips. "Fine. Just be ready to step in when they attack."

"We will."

Mal walked up through the arena doors. Rolam came out the other side.

In that moment, Mal couldn't hear anything. He couldn't hear the sound of the crowds, or the announcer, or the way the wind whistled through the coliseum.

No, he was entirely and wholly locked on Rolam.

Rolam drew his blade. Mal shifted his left heel back.

Mal broke into a run. He blinked hard and his vision shifted, allowing him to see the flow of mana inside of Rolam's body. The mana shifted diagonally right. Mal jumped to the left. Rolam's eyes widened and he shifted to adjust. The movement was awkward and clumsy, and the ranged mana slash that came out of his sword was half-hearted at best. Mal easily dodged it without having to change his position at all.

He closed the gap, then delivered a hard punch to Rolam's chest.

It was like hitting solid rock. Mal drew his fist back and flopped it around to get rid of some of the pain. He caught sight of mana shifting out of the corner of his eye, indicating the diraction of the attack.

He dodged it with a few quick steps, then breathed out, slow.

Rolam took a step back and paused.

"On the surface, you might say that I have all the advantages," Rolam said. "But I've never felt so pressed, and you haven't even brought out the rest of your weaponry."

"I'm flattered."

"I don't know what my chances are of beating you, but I want to win."

"Yes, yes. Bring honor to your family—"

"It has nothing to do with that, not this time."

Mal tilted his head. "Then why are you here?"

"I have to prove that the effort you put into me—the training, the aid, the leadership—that it was all worth something. I need to prove that I am no longer the runaway who couldn't make it at the Elven Academy."

Rolam brought his blade out to his right. "So, I must ask that you not hold back, honored leader."

Ah, Mal thought. That'll be a difficult request to fulfill.

Rolam's blade glowed a bright gold, then extended out to double, triple, quadruple its length, much longer than the one that he'd used against Lusia.

He slashed right, and though the blade was noticeably slower, it was still absurdly quick for its size. Mal couldn't dodge left or right or back—the edge was so long that the only way to go was up.

He's limiting my options. If I go up, he'll have some kind of trick to take care of me while I'm vulnerable.

Mal's hands darted into his satchel and he threw a bundle of Sleepleaf pollen at Rolam. Rolam dodged, but this bought time for Mal to close the distance and loop around behind Rolam.

He dropped two Elderroot Seeds onto the ground. With a pulse sent to his Bramblevine Bracelet, the seeds burst up and wrapped around Rolam's legs.

Rolam flexed his calves and jumped forward and out of the way, ripping the vines off his legs. He spun in a circle, bringing his extended sword with him. Mal, at this point, was distant enough to backpedal and get out of the way of the slash. He did so, and as the slash completed—

A crescent moon erupted from the tip of the blade.

Ranged slash combined with extended blade.

Mal had missed it. He hadn't thought that Rolam would be capable of such a thing.

With no other option, Mal jumped into the air to dodge the slash. Rolam's extended blade disappeared, leaving his sword at a normal size. He rushed forward and jumped up to meet Mal in the air, sword pointed at Mal's chest.

Mal's heart dropped into his stomach. Rolam wasn't playing around.

Either that or he trusted Mal so much that he assumed that Mal would have a way to get out of this.

Well, he wasn't wrong.

Mal kicked his boots up to the sky, then let a gust of wind blow out of them. It sent him back into the ground where he hit the sand with a thud. He rolled to the side and a blade cut into the dirt where he'd been just a second ago.

Mal needed to end this. He needed an opening, somewhere. Rolam could overpower him, and Mal could act as if he'd been seriously injured. Maybe it would be for the best if he actually was injured.

Mal brought out his dagger.

He breathed out and centered himself.

They rushed at each other, Mal bringing his dagger low, Rolam bringing his sword up high. The two were about to lock in combat when—

A faint black wisp caught Mal's eye.

Mal swiped at it, and it dived and managed to dodge his blow. Mal watched as it approached Rolam. Without thinking, Mal pushed Rolam out of the way, and the black wisp touched Mal's hand.

Ice froze his veins. His breathing hitched, and he gripped his chest.

Rolam looked at him in confusion. "Honored leader, what is it?"

Four more black wisps floated overhead. They bubbled, and popped, and a swarm of black appeared overhead. The swarm lowered to the ground, and Ekron and Nima stepped out.

"Oh," Ekron looked at Mal, "it's you, the interesting one."

Ekron looked around in a circle at the people in the Coliseum. There were more than a few confused looks on the students' faces, but no sense of urgency. They hadn't fully grasped what had happened.

"My name is Ekron," he said, "the tenth vessel, and I'm here to kill you all."