The Zombie Knight

Chapter 293: O, Wonder! O, Threshold...!

The memory froze when Hector heard that. Had he frozen it himself? Yeah. He felt so. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d done that, but it seemed true.

If this blurry figure in front of him was really Rathmore, then he wanted to take a minute and reexamine the scene.

Recontextualize it, actually.

This giant metal-and-rock formation all around the Gate...

Could it have been a Fusion Forge?

Hector knew that they could look like just about anything, so perhaps there was no telling for sure. But if it was, then that might explain, in part, why it no longer existed in the modern day. Forges were too highly sought after to be left alone. Someone would’ve either taken it or destroyed it.

Furthermore, it might also explain how Rathmore had been able to affect the supposedly un-affectable stone. If anything in the world could modify the unmodifiable, it would probably be a Fusion Forge, wouldn’t it?

Hmm.

The more he looked at the enormous formation, the more he wondered about how it might have functioned. All those spiked points focusing on the Gate. Were they for channeling ardor, perhaps? Or extracting it, maybe? Dammit. Maybe if the scene hadn’t gone white earlier, he would’ve gotten a clearer picture of things.

He found himself hovering higher, floating above the stony contraption in order to get a better idea of just how huge it really was. It extended out farther than he’d realized, seemingly embedded deep into the ground, making it difficult to tell where the natural rock ended and Forge-rock began.

Perhaps that was the point. The Candle had a similar design philosophy, didn’t it? Built right into a tree. Made inseparable from it. In which case, it might’ve been better to think of the “natural” rock as still part of the forge. Like a root system.

And that lever. That was distinct. Hector looked for any other mechanical parts, but he couldn’t find any. How could that be the only thing? Was there a vast network of cogwheels underground? Probably not. That sort of technology seemed a bit advanced for how long ago this must have taken place.

But then again...

Ancient integrators were no joke. Stasya Orlov, the creator of Warrenhold, had apparently invented locked door mechanisms long before the technology became commonplace. So maybe Rathmore had done something similar here.

But the scene surrounding it was quite strange indeed. Instead of a simple forest, there was a tremendous formation of... something. Rock? Metal?

Both.

Almost like a massive, tangled web. It rose high into the air above, with dozens of metal spikes pointing downward at the Gate, looking almost like scorpion tails preparing to strike. But they were not moving. Nor did it seem like they ever would, Hector thought.

What was this? This giant structure didn’t exist in the modern day. What had happened to it?

He observed the scene for a while, unsure if anything was even going to happen at all. No one was around. The structure seemed perfectly still.

Then, at length, a person stepped into view. Hector couldn’t make out any details about them, as their face and body were a blur. They hovered around the base of the structure, perhaps examining things, until they eventually approached an apparent lever on the far western edge of the structure and pulled it with both hands.

The scene exploded with bright light, and it remained that way for so long that Hector began to think the memory had ended. When the light finally faded, however, Hector looked for some kind of change to the scene.

But he couldn’t see a difference.

“Does this qualify as success?” came a voice from his right, and Hector turned to see a second blurry person approaching.

“No,” said the first person, still by the lever, “but perhaps it will have to.”

“Truly? You are finally putting an end to this nonsense?”

“For this monument, yes. But only because there are still so many others left.”

“Bah. You gave me hope for a moment there. I ask again: what is the point in all this if no real results are achievable? Even if your theories are true, why bother with--”

“Cease your incessant whinging, woman. If you still do not understand, then I expect you never will.”

There was silence, until the second spoke again. “I did not expect to find you in such foul temper. You are normally so calm, even in failure.”

“Hmph. Perhaps that is why your insufferable attitude has gotten so out of hand. Because I have been too calm. Because I have allowed you to forget who I am.”

“You are my consort, and I am your Queen. You would do well to--”

“No, you ignorant wench. I am the Seer of the Distant Dawn. I am He Who Has Touched the Heavens. I am Rathmore of Andeyal.”

Hector almost resented that. But the reaper probably had a point. “I think... the way it works is... I need to see something in order to search for it in my memories. Specifically, I mean. I’ve tried to search based on just ideas before, but the results I got back were always kinda... shitty and vague. Almost like the Candle itself was trying to figure out what I want. And not quite succeeding.”

So you’re saying the Candle is stupid.

“I did not say that. Not at all.”

That’s what I heard.

“I’m saying that words like ‘Rathmore’s Materials’ or whatever are not helpful. Maybe if I knew what they looked like, then I could find something relevant, but...”

Well, the Gate’s right here. Put those photoreceptors to use and get a good look. That’s basically why we came all this way, isn’t it?

“I have been looking,” said Hector, extending out his iron platform so that he could eye the Gate up and down again. “I’m just trying to...”

No rush,’ said Garovel. ‘Take your time and think. You’ve got a lot in there, right? Soak in the view and think back. Hell, meditate if you have to.

Hmm. Hector did as the reaper said, circling around the Gate to get a series of good looks in from all different angles, including from above and below. Maybe he couldn’t search for someone mentioning the Gate, but perhaps it would show up in the background of a memory. If he could just learn to recognize its shape...

Okay, but don’t actually take that long. I’m getting bored over here.

“You were being so helpful for a minute there...”

He concentrated. And yet also didn’t. He wanted to find just the right headspace to occupy for this. He wanted to be loose and free. Moving through memories quickly and easily. Not lingering. Not getting bogged down in details. But he also wanted to have enough awareness so that he could actually detect the Gate if it appeared.

It was a balancing act, of sorts. A long and strange trek, speeding by countless memories like a passenger looking out the window of a train.

There was a temptation to simply... keep going. Because, also like a train, there was a certain rhythm to this. A certain... comfort. Passively observing the world. Observing history. Hmm.

Stop.

There.

He had to rewind a bit. Had to journey backwards. Not sure that he’d seen what he thought. Had to take his time, too. Look over each scene a bit more thoroughly.

But he found it.

Rathmore’s Gate.

“Yes, I’m sure,” said Hector. “Shut up with that, already.”

But what if breaking it unlocks its hidden power?

“Why in the world would that do it?”

Why wouldn’t it? It’d be like breaking open a locked door.

“Yeah, okay. Or it’d be like smashing a priceless vase.”

Y’know what? I bet you’re not even strong enough to break it. I bet it’s probably too powerful for you.

Hector snorted. “You must be getting desperate, if you think that’s gonna convince me.”

Ugh, damn you and your lack of pride. You’re a lord now, you know. Your ego is supposed to be inflating every day.

Hector ignored him, knowing they were going to get sidetracked again if he didn’t.

In a background thought process, he’d been trying to sift through the memories of the Candle for anything about Rathmore’s Gate or Rathmore’s Materials--or even Rathmore himself. In truth, he’d been searching for a while, on and off for the past few days.

With all the things that the Candle had left him, it felt like there had to be something in there. Somewhere. Right? If these Materials were as old as Garovel said, then surely the Candle would’ve learned something about them as some point.

If only it was that simple.

Perhaps Hector was taking too long with his thoughts, because Garovel seemed to realize what he was up to.

Find something relevant in that head of yours?’ the reaper asked.

“I’m trying, but... I don’t think so.”

Hmm. Nothing at all about Rathmore? He was pretty damn famous, so it would make sense if the Candle knew about him.

“Unfortunately,” said Hector, “that’s not really how it works. The memories are... just, like, scenes in my head. And emotions, too. Those are able to come through. But names? And words? I can’t really use those like keywords for a search.”

No? That sucks.

“Tell me about it,” said Hector. “I can sometimes remember... conversations. Sort of. But that’s about it. And they’re usually kinda... weird and muddy. Probably because they were taking place in a language that I don’t actually know.”

So you just need to search for someone mentioning Rathmore’s name.

“You make it sound so simple...”

Maybe it is. Maybe you’re getting into your own head and overcomplicating things. Not that you would ever do such a thing, I’m sure.

What, so you’re saying you really DID lose track of it beforehand?

“Um... maybe? Do you remember when I last had it?”

It was on the ground. Not technically in your possession, I suppose. You were carrying it in orbit around you until Malast, uh... gave you his “blessing.” Then you dropped it, along with everything else. When you came to, Malast gave you everything back... except the mirror. Hmm.

“Oh. Huh. You think he left it out on purpose?”

Tough to say. He might not have even known it was a special artifact. You had it encased in your iron the whole time, so perhaps he merely mistook it for debris or something.

“Yeah, but he was a ‘god.’ And he, like, knew stuff.”

You have a real way with words, sometimes, Hector.

“What I mean is, he would’ve known that it was special, wouldn’t he? Because he could just tell. With his weird god-powers or whatever.”

I’m inclined to agree with you. But remember, he was also a big idiot.

“That’s, uh... hmm.”

And a bigger douche.

“Wow, Garovel. Tell me how you really feel.”

I’m just saying we can’t assume much about what his intentions might’ve been. If we’re feeling less insulting in our choice of labels, then we would probably call a guy like that a “wildcard.”

“Okay, well, even if he didn’t hold the mirror back intentionally, we’re still at least certain that I didn’t have it on me when we returned to Atreya, right? Which was the important point.”

I suppose so, yes. Which would mean... we REALLY have no idea how it ended up in the Gate.

“Oh, maybe Malast sent it afterwards. Like, maybe he saw it on the floor and realized he’d forgotten something, sent it through on its own, and then it got stuck here.”

The reaper was quiet.

“What?” said Hector.

We didn’t have much time to get to know Malast, and yet... somehow, the scene you just described sounds incredibly likely to me. I can just imagine him fucking up like that.

“Geez. Y’know, you’re ragging on him so much that it’s starting make me feel bad for him.”

Really? You’re the one who shit-talked him to his face, though.

“I--well, that wasn’t--I mean... er...”

Yeah. There’s the Hector I know.

Hector wasn’t sure what to say now. And rather than continuing to struggle with that, he returned his attention to the mirror.

You sure you don’t want to break it?’ said Garovel.

Ooh, wait a minute,’ said Garovel. ‘What if this thing is a teleporter now like the Gate? Try sticking your hand through it. Watch it pass through the mirror like an open window.

“You really think that’ll happen?”

Well, of course. It was my idea, and I’m never wrong, so yes, I’m sure it will.

Hector bobbed his head and decided not to retort. “Alright, then. Here goes.”

He pressed his gauntleted hand flatly against the reflection. And waited.

Nothing happened, still.

You’re obviously doing it wrong,’ said Garovel.

“Oh, am I? How so?”

Uh. Well. Your armor. You gotta use your bare hand, of course.

“Okay, then.” He dematerialized one gauntlet and repeated the same action.

It made no difference.

Alright, it’s useless. You can break it now.

“I’m not gonna break it!”

Oh, c’mon. It deserves it. Just look how smug it is. With its. Reflectiveness.

“Even if it is useless, what would be the point in breaking it?”

To make me feel better?

“Garovel.”

I’m kidding again. Relax.

“Are you, though? You sure this isn’t one of those sarcastic confession-type things?”

Maybe a little. Maybe I think that mirror is being a real prick, right now.

“Okay, Garovel.”

I don’t appreciate your tone, Hector.

He decided to move on before the reaper dragged him down another conversational rabbit hole. “I wonder if whatever power the mirror had... got sucked out by the Gate ‘r something.”

That sounds possible. Hmm. Maybe even plausible.

“But why would it only affect the mirror and not anything else? The Shifting Spear of Logante had power in it, too, right? And it came through the Gate just fine. Not to mention the Scarf.”

Perhaps the nature of the mirror’s power was similar to that of the Gate. So they interacted with one another.

“So... maybe it’s actually the opposite of what you were saying. Maybe it was a teleporter, but now it’s not?’

Maybe. And if so, then... man, that bites. Bad luck on our part.

“I mean, at least we didn’t end up fused into the rock.”

I guess that’s true. Way to look on the bright side, Hector.

“Hmm...”

Now what’re you thinking?

“I’m trying to remember the last time that I actually saw this thing,’ said Hector. “Because I feel like... I didn’t even have it with me when we went through the portal. Not that I knew we were going through a portal, at the time.”

Hector hesitated. “But what if... what if it gives me, like, a crazy vision or something when I touch it?”

Why would it do that?

“I don’t know. Why did it fuse with the rock?”

Fair point.’ Garovel allowed a beat to pass. ‘Eh, but I’m sure it’ll be fine! Go on! Touch it! See if it does anything!

“Garovel...”

What? Don’t chicken out on me now. Where are those massive iron balls of yours, all of a sudden?

Hector sighed and chuckled at the same time. “You’re such an idiot, sometimes...”

Like reaper, like servant, my friend.

“Fuuuck you...” Hector did lift his hand, though, readying himself to grab the edge of the mirror. It was probably safe enough, he figured.

He touched the golden paneling.

Nothing happened.

He gave it a second, just in case, but still nothing. So he grasped the edge of the mirror more firmly and gave it a tug.

It didn’t budge. Not even a little.

Put some elbow grease into it.

“What if I break it?”

Eh, I’m sure it’ll be fine.

“The more you say that, the less convinced I become.”

Alright, I’m mostly kidding this time. Don’t break it yet.

“‘Yet?’”

Let’s just have a little look-see here...’ The reaper hovered nearer to it, looking at it from directly above now, straight into the reflection. ‘Hmm. Y’know what would’ve been a cool power for this thing to have? If it let me see myself in it.

“Cool and useless.”

C’mon. Being cool is its own use.

Hector decided to raise his iron platform a bit higher in order to join the reaper in looking into it. As one might’ve expected, he could indeed see himself in it.

Huh. So that was what his helmet and pauldrons looked like from the outside. Despite how much effort he’d put into making it, he hadn’t actually bothered to check what this new dark armor looked like in a mirror yet.

Pauline had mentioned that it looked scary, and... now he could see why she thought that. He hadn’t bothered to add any ornamentation to the helmet, because the material had simply been too difficult to work with, but it had still ended up with a T-shaped eye slit, thanks to the faceguard, and a smooth overall profile that fully concealed his neck, thanks to the way it interlocked seamlessly with the gorget.

And because of how dark it was, it made him look less like a person and more like a shadow.

“How could that be?” said Hector. “And how do you know?”

How do I know? Because I was paying close attention, that’s how. Rathmore’s Materials are always of interest to me.’ The reaper hovered around the mirror, inspecting the different sides of it. ‘As for how it could be possible, well... the only explanation that I can think of is that the properties of the mirror interacted with the properties of the Gate, creating an unexpected result.

Hmm. “But where did the mirror come from?”

You don’t recognize it? This is the same mirror that I had you grab during the middle of that worm fight, remember?

Oh shit. Hector looked at it anew. The reaper was right.

You thought you’d dropped it at some point during all the confusion, didn’t you? You were quite bummed about it.

“Yeah... I thought I’d lost another artifact of power, like with the Moon’s Wrath. Or if not an artifact, then something that we probably could’ve sold for a lot of money, at least.”

Right. We never did figure out what kind of power it harbored, if any. But I think we can safely say now that there was indeed something more to it. Otherwise, it never would’ve gotten stuck on the Gate like this.

“Huh...”

In fact, this is... entirely unprecedented. In all the time I’ve been studying Rathmore’s Materials, never have I seen anything or anyone modify one of them in any way, apart from Rathmore himself.

Dang. “When you put it like that, this, uh... this seems like kind of a big deal.”

It is.’ Garovel eyed Hector for a moment. ‘Wow, buddy. All this time, I had no idea you were the most powerful integrator since Rathmore. Talk about impressive.

“I--?” Hector’s expression flattened. “Okay. First of all, I definitely didn’t do this. And second--”

You don’t know that. Maybe it was your aura playing havoc with things.

“No. I don’t accept that. That’s bullshit, Garovel.”

The reaper laughed. ‘You seem surprisingly confident about that.

“I’m confident that you’re trying to fuck with me.”

Heh, maybe. But we genuinely don’t know what caused this. I’m just having fun speculating, right now.

“Uh-huh. Anyway, how do get it out of there?”

Good question. I suspect that we simply can’t. It looks like it’s fused with the stone. But go ahead and try pulling on it, if you want. Maybe looks are deceiving. Maybe it’ll slide free, easy as can be.

I mean, the guy was brilliant. I’m not contesting that. Even if he didn’t actually create these things, he’s still the only person in history who’s ever been able to affect them in any way. And my interest in his Materials definitely stems from that fact, at least in part. I just feel it in my non-existent bones that these things must harbor some kind of incredible power or secret.

“Well, this one was secretly a teleporter, so I guess your bones were right.”

Indeed.

Hector circled around the base of the Gate, inspecting it. The formation was simple enough at a glance. Two big rocks, one almost twice the size of the other, similar in overall scale to a small office building. There hadn’t been much opportunity to examine the Gate before, so Hector wanted to take his time now.

He recalled Garovel mentioning that Rathmore had marked all of his works with a certain type of etching. Hector had seen it firsthand back in Himmekel, during the treasure hunt that ultimately led them to Malast. The etching had been quite hard to spot, though, nearly invisible to the naked eye.

He looked for it now on the Gate, getting up close to the rock and squinting. He was a little afraid of touching it with his bare hands, even though it was almost certainly fine to do so. There was just a slight fear in the back of his mind that it might suddenly teleport him back down to the Undercrust--or to some totally random place, maybe.

He was fairly sure it didn’t work like that, but still. A bit of caution wouldn’t hurt, he figured.

If there were any etchings on these rocks, then he wasn’t seeing them yet. It was quite hard to tell, though. He tried looking even closer.

Hector,’ came Garovel’s voice. ‘Over here.

Hector ventured to where the reaper was pointing and found something entirely unexpected.

There was a flat object jutting out of the larger rock formation, about two-thirds of the way up to its peak. It had a golden sheen to it.

“What is that?”

Garovel was already up there, investigating. ‘Um... hmm. Wait a second. This is... a mirror.

Hector raised an iron platform for himself to join the reaper. Indeed, it was a moderately large mirror with a golden, jewel-encrusted panel. “What the heck? Why would Rathmore stick a random mirror into his Gate?”

He didn’t,’ said Garovel. ‘This wasn’t here before.

It wasn’t quite as impressive as he remembered. From this high up, he could see most of the forest’s edges in the distance.

But perhaps he was being unfair. After having spent considerable time in the great Imara Forest of Lorent, this place felt downright quaint. Hence why House Carthrace wanted to preserve it, he supposed, rather than letting it dwindle away into nothing. Lorent clearly didn’t have such problems.

The Gate itself was quite easy to find, too. Not only was the Reserve smaller than he expected, but the battle that had taken place here had left a giant hole behind.

Which made him feel a little bit bad. He’d talked with a few different Carthraces now, not the least of which being Amelia, but the subject of their nature reserve and his involvement in its partial destruction had never come up.

He landed with a thick thud, not quite as graceful as he’d intended, feeling bolts of pain shoot up both legs as he barely managed to stay on his feet. Thankfully, he regained his composure quickly enough, which told him that he’d probably avoided injuring himself, at least.

The sundered battleground did seem to be recovering, he noticed. That was good. It looked like all the felled trees had been cleared away, too, leaving room for new sprouts to pop up all over the place. Or had those been planted by hand? Yeah, some of them must have been, if not all. A few were nearly as tall as he was already, and while he was no botanist, he was fairly sure that trees didn’t grow that quickly.

Some pristine red flowers were blooming amid the tall grass, as well, making for quite a painterly view as he laid eyes on and finally approached Rathmore’s Gate.

So this had the power of teleportation. In part, at least. Hector highly doubted that he and Garovel would be able to get it to work here and now. He wasn’t even sure what they would do with it if they could.

But it did make him wonder if it might be capable of anything else. “So Rathmore named all these things after himself,” said Hector, recalling what Garovel told him before, “but they actually existed long before he did, right?”

Yep. Kind of a wily prick, that Rathmore.

“And you knew him personally, you said.”

That’s right.

“Doesn’t seem like you have many fond memories of the guy...”

Actually, I do. It’s just that I have some particularly horrible ones, as well. Horrible enough to ruin everything else.

“Ah...”

You should do something nice for him,’ said Garovel. ‘Get him a present for being such a bro all the time.

What kind of present can I get for one of the richest dudes in the country?

Beats me. Put some thought into it. That’s the part they say counts, right?

Real helpful, Garovel.

In the end, he decided to trust the reaper’s judgment about being able to handle more intense flying maneuvers.

So he stepped it up, pushing for speed. He told Garovel not to render him numb, because he thought that pain might actually be the best way to gauge how much his own body was able to handle.

That nearly turned out to be a mistake. Rather than pain, he found instead that he was struggling not to pass out.

He was stubborn, though. In addition to no numbing, he also went without the undead vigor and regeneration, knowing that they would just leave him exhausted afterwards.

He didn’t quite recall how much of that fight he’d done without those enhancements, but he did know that he’d endured the last part of it that way. Specifically, he remembered how much of a relief it was when Garovel invoked the regeneration once it was all over.

So he knew that he could do this. These movements were nowhere near as intense.

But why did it feel so much harder, then? Because the stakes were so much lower? Because he was less focused?

Agh.

Mind over matter, huh?

He hadn’t expected the difference to be this dramatic, though. It made him wonder if he was remembering things wrong. He supposed training simply didn’t compare to the real thing.

The flying practice wasn’t meant to be fun, but as they sailed over the capital city of Sescoria, catching glimpses of famous buildings and landmarks, Hector couldn’t help wanting to take in the view a little more.

He made sure to gain plenty of altitude, though. No sense in spooking people on the ground by flying too low.

When he saw Bosliat Palace, he knew they were making good time and decided to slow down a bit to admire it. The place looked completely different from above. Being able to see the entire breadth of the compound made him wonder how Warrenhold might look from this perspective, if it weren’t underground.

Briefly, he considered popping in to say hi to the Queen, but she was probably busy. And besides, he felt like she might surprise him with some kind of new task or request.

So he pressed on, pushing for even more speed this time. It was about staying focused, Hector felt. Concentrating. Maintaining the flying armor wasn’t enough. He had to press harder. Remind himself what he’d been able to do before. The urgency.

Sescoria quickly fell away into the horizon behind him, and soon enough, the vast forest of the Reserve came into view.

With Garovel on board, Hector was a bit reluctant to go too crazy with the flight practice. That last fight with Banda had been the absolute pinnacle of what he could currently achieve when it came to flying--and he was still feeling the after effects, even now. Aches and pains lingered from breaking every single bone in his body a dozen times over.

He wasn’t sure the damage had ever been that extensive before. Thinking back, it was tough to compare. The fight with Harper Norez had been pretty damn bad, though. And the time he’d been blown to smithereens. And maybe the time he’d gotten dissected...

But no, this time still felt worse, somehow. Sure, he might’ve built his pain tolerance quite a bit since back then, but the intensity of the pain wasn’t the issue. It was the stubbornness of it. He again found himself in a state of existence where it felt like he might never be pain-free again. Like all these dull aches were just a fact of life now.

Was this how old people felt all the time?

Goddamn did he sympathize.

Still, he tried to push himself a bit during the flight to the Carthrace Nature Reserve. It was good chance to test his actual comfort level, now that he had definitive experience with being incredibly uncomfortable.

He kept checking in on Garovel, who’d tucked himself into the armor, but the reaper just kept telling him that he was fine.

Are you sure?’ said Hector. ‘I don’t want to bank too hard to the right and accidentally knock you out cold. Or worse.

Relax already, you worry wart. As long as I’m attached to your body, I’m unaffected by physics.

...Is that really how it works? Kinda sounds like bullshit.

You think I’d bullshit you about something like that?

A little, yeah.

Wow, buddy. What the hell?

Or you could just be honestly mistaken. I mean, you’re not exactly the most safety-conscious person I’ve ever met, Garovel.

Okay, you’re the LAST person who can lecture me about that, Mr. Dimension-Hopping-Dinosaur-Wrestler. At least I’ve never needed to be puked out of a monster’s stomach before.

...Wait, how’d you learn about the puking? I don’t think I mentioned that part.

Roman told me.

He saw that?

He sure did. And judging from the way he described it to me, I think he might be scarred for life now, by the way.

Aw, shit...

Not long afterward, the two of them went their separate ways, with Ms. Rogers returning to her office in the Tower of Night and Hector going to grab a bite to eat in the refectory. He spotted Garovel along the way, chatting with a few of the other reapers, as usual, but decided not to bother him.

Garovel soon found him on his own, though, and brought up a subject that the both of them had been meaning to find the time and opportunity to address for a while now.

The subject of Rathmore’s Gate.

The Gate was a peculiar location, deep within the Carthrace Nature Reserve, where a large, seemingly natural rock formation resided. The first time he’d visited the place had been during a battle for Atreya’s fate against a group of Abolish terrorists. The second time had been upon their return from the Undercrust, via some kind of still-not-understood teleportation mechanism and the newly ascended “god” Royo Raju. Or had that been Malast’s doing? Hector couldn’t quite recall.

Regardless, they had been wanting to return there and investigate the location again, but it was starting to seem like they would never find the time. Hell, even now, when things were starting to feel relatively calm again, Hector still found himself a bit reluctant to go.

But he supposed if he’d been able to justify a trip to Klein, then he could probably justify this, instead.

It helped that Atreya was such a small country. And that he could fly pretty damn fast now with his armor. He wouldn’t need to be away from Warrenhold for all that long, and he could of course keep in constant contact with the castle’s guards and scouts, not the least of which was one Pauline Gaolanet in her roost at the top of the tallest aboveground tower that Hector had materialized.

Plus, he didn’t know if he was ever going to be completely free from concerns over an attack. Even if the war came to an end tomorrow, that didn’t necessarily mean Atreya and Lorent were much safer. In fact, maybe that would make the Abolish remnants go looking for some softer targets that weren’t being defended by the Vanguard.

Which was assuming that Abolish ended up on the losing side. The other possibility... Hector didn’t even want to think about that.

So he decided, as ever, to think of this as another opportunity for training.

Why was he getting the impression that she wasn’t being entirely honest with him here?

He supposed he was putting too much thought into it at this point. Better to let it go. “It’s okay, Ms. Rogers. I might’ve, uh... er... I think I might’ve been at fault, too.”

Her gaze twitched. “In what way?”

“By not being clearer from the start, I... put you in a bit of an awkward position, didn’t I?”

“No, lord, you did nothing wrong.”

“That’s kind of you to say, Ms. Rogers, but you don’t need to sugarcoat things for me. I’d rather you spoke your mind. I’m still new to this lording business, after all.”

At that, the Stewardess of Warrenhold was quiet.

Hector, finding that curious, decided to just wait for her. Perhaps she was thinking about what to say.

And indeed, that appeared to be so. “...In that case, lord, please forgive me if what I am about to say comes off as rude. I do not mean it that way.”

Aha. He braced himself.

“It seems to me,” she went on, “that, occasionally, you do not quite realize just how much more valuable your time is, compared to that of other people. I suspect this is because you are... humble in the extreme, to say the least. Which is an admirable thing, by and large, but there are also certain realities of your station that should not be ignored, both in terms of your own scheduling and in terms how others are to perceive you.”

That was a lot to take in. Hector chose not to say anything right away, instead just mulling her words over. On impulse, he wanted to disagree, but this was someone whose opinion he held in high regard, so he didn’t want to discard her thoughts here too quickly.

She returned the favor of giving him time to think. But after a while, she decided to say a bit more. “But to be clear, lord, I do indeed think that you did nothing wrong in this particular instance, especially now that I have have given it more thought. This was clearly a more important matter to you than I at first realized. I will be more careful in the future.”

Hmm. Hector was starting to feel like an asshole. But he didn’t quite know how, why, or what he might say or do to counteract that feeling, so he merely remained silent. Backpedaling didn’t seem like the right call here, either.

Man.

He’d thought he was getting a little better at being a lord, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he barely knew anything.

They exited the aboveground building together, and Ms. Rogers appeared with a couple of Rainlords behind her. She didn’t say anything, but Hector could infer that she meant to take the man off Hector’s hands for him.

Hector decided against that, however. He walked with Fred back to the man’s four-door sedan and watched the man drive away, though not before making sure that the guy had a means of getting in touch with him again. Rather than keeping Ms. Rogers as their go-between, Hector gave Fred his personal number.

He returned underground with Ms. Rogers and the Rainlords.

She was noticeably quiet, Hector felt. Usually, she wouldn’t hesitate to use these walking periods to remind him of one thing or another, so the fact that she wasn’t doing that now made him wonder what was going through her mind.

Truthfully, he was still a bit displeased with her, but he also didn’t want to let one mistake override all the great work that she had done for him, either. That wouldn’t be fair to her.

And things seemed to have worked out with Fred, anyway, so there was really no point in staying upset.

But before he let her off the hook, there was one thing he needed to double-check.

He asked the Rainlords to give them some privacy. One of them, Matteo Delaguna, was slower to acquiesce than the other, but not by much.

“Ms. Rogers,” he said once they were alone in a side room near the top of the Entry Tower. “Do you understand why I got upset with you about Fred?”

She was a bit slow to answer. “Because you felt that I had disrespected him. And by extension, since I was representing you, I made it appear as if you had disrespected him.”

“Okay, but do you understand why I thought it was disrespectful?”

“...Because you wanted to express your contrition to the man. If you had gone to him, it would have made for a clearer indication of your sincerity, as you would effectively be saying that his time and convenience were more important than your own.”

Huh. Well, that was pretty much spot on. As he should’ve expected, considering how sharp he knew Ms. Rogers to be.

But that also confused him a little. “That’s exactly right,” he said. “So... why did you have him come here?”

She paused again. “It was a mistake, lord. I can only apologize.”

Well, Hector was at a bit of a loss now. He truly had not considered what to do if this guy had simply refused to take the money.

Huh.

“Sure is tempting, though,” said Fred. “Wish I could accept, but I just can’t. Frankly, lord, I don’t think you owe me anything. Wouldn’t feel right, taking this money.”

“Hmm,” hummed Hector, thinking. “Not even for the sake of the wife and kids that you just mentioned?”

“Eh, fuck ‘em. It’s my decision, not theirs.”

Hector couldn’t hold back a snort. “Are you being serious, right now, sir?”

“Mostly. In all the ways that matter, at least.”

“I’m not sure what to make of that. Are you a man of incredible integrity or just a terrible father?”

“What, I can’t be both?”

That pulled a laugh out of Hector, and he shook his head, not knowing how to respond.

“Look, I love my family, but we’re doing just fine, financially. This isn’t needed and would probably spoil the shit out of them, anyway. It’s hard enough to prevent my kids from turning into insufferable little brats, as is.”

“That is... definitely one way of looking at it, I suppose.”

“Okay, lord, y’know what? How would I explain where this money came from, hmm? Oh, the new Lord of Warrenhold decided to just up and gift it to me? No. I’m a cop. People will think I’m on the take and just lying about it. Badly.”

Well, that argument held a little more water, Hector felt. “Alright, uh... what if, instead of giving the money to you, I give it to someone else of your choosing? Or multiple someones, if you prefer.”

Fred’s head reared back as he took that into consideration.

“Maybe an organization?” pushed Hector. “A charity?”

“This got a lot more complicated, all of a sudden.”

“You don’t have to decide, right now. I’ll keep the money in reserve for whenever you make up your mind. Sound good?”

Fred stared at him for a moment, then exhaled a curt laugh. “You’re really something, y’know that?”

“You’re one to talk,” said Hector.

“I was trying to pay you a compliment.”

“So was I.”

Fred’s gaze went to the table briefly, then he smiled and stood up, offering Hector a handshake. “Thank you for this. I’ll take some time to think about it and get back to you.”

Hector stood and took the handshake. “Alright, then.”

“Hafta say,” Fred went on, “it was a very strange feeling, seeing the kid that messed me up continue to make such crazy headlines, week in and week out. Didn’t know what to make of it all. First, you were the biggest villain in the country, then the biggest hero, and now you’re apparently the most powerful lord in Atreya, to boot, goin’ around, givin’ the other lords what for, showin’ ‘em who’s boss with that new bank of yours.”

Hector still didn’t know what to say, but he felt like he couldn’t let that last part go. “I don’t think that’s quite how it went down, sir...”

The man chuckled. “If you say so, lord. But from my perspective, you are an enigma and a half. Because despite all that, despite how much else you clearly have going on in your life, you decide to make time for me, of all people. A man who, apparently, was hunting you down unjustly, acting as nothing more than a stooge for some... foreign coup attempt, was it? I’m still not too sure I understand what went down in the capital last year.”

Geez. For how quiet this guy was earlier, he sure was speaking his mind now, Hector thought.

“My point, lord, is that you have no reason to be doing this for me. And it’s weirding me out. So thank you for your thoughtful generosity, but I don’t think I can accept this money.”

Hector blinked. “...Are you sure?”

Fred eyed the check one more time. “No. I’m not sure. But I try to listen to my gut whenever I’m on the verge of making potentially life-changing decisions, and right now, it’s telling me that I shouldn’t take this. Assuming you’ll actually take no for an answer, lord.”

Wow.

Um.

Damn.

“...If you’re worried about there being some sort of string attached to this money,” said Hector, “then I can assure you that there isn’t. Genuinely, you can just take it and go, and I will never contact you again. I promise.”

That seemed to give Fred pause again, though not for long. He shook his head. “Thank you, but my answer is still no, lord.”

He blinked again. “...And you called me an enigma.”

The man chortled. “Fair is fair, I suppose.”

Hector had to ask one more time. “You’re really, one hundred percent sure that you don’t want to accept this?”

Fred sighed and scratched his brow. “Yeah...” He said it almost sadly, as if he was somehow exasperated with his own decision.

And now, here he was. Probably confused as hell.

Hector tried to think of something else to say, but nothing was coming to mind. Damn, this was getting awkward fast.

At length, Officer Michaels finally said something else. “Why are you bothering with this? Not that I’m not grateful, but... insurance already took care of my medical expenses, which weren’t even comparable to what you’re offering me here. You worried I’ll sue you or something? Because frankly, I don’t think I’d have much of a case. And even if I had, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to get this much out of you...”

There were a lot ways that Hector could answer that. He took a few moments to think through them all before settling on the simplest one. “I just think it’s the right thing to do.”

Fred held his gaze steadily, saying nothing.

“I’m sorry for making you come all the way out here, by the way. I intended to visit you in Klein, but uh, some wires got crossed, I guess. And then you showed up before I could fix them.”

“It’s fine. Wanted some time away from the wife and kids, anyway.”

Was that a joke? Probably. Hector decided to smile. “How are things over in Klein, by the way?”

“Uh... pretty normal, I’d say. Why do you ask?”

“No real reason. Guess I’m just curious about how people are doing across the country. What with the war and everything.”

“Oh.” Fred allowed a beat to pass. “Well, if you want a beat cop’s opinion, then I’d say that people are scared, but not all that much more than usual. Foreign conflicts have always been terrifying to hear about. This one’s just a bit closer than we’d like.”

Understandable, Hector supposed. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d felt similarly. Hearing about wars abroad felt unsettling but thankfully also quite distant. So when that distance began to shrink...

“Way I hear it,” said Fred, “you’ve gotten involved with Lorent, which is even closer to the war than we are. You plannin’ on sticking your neck out even further than that?”

What a question. Hector felt like he should be firm here. “Not at all. The exact opposite, actually. I feel like if I do something crazy, it might put Atreya at risk, which is the last thing I want.”

“Ah. Big hero with big concerns, eh?”

Hector didn’t know what to say to that.

Zeff had to admit: the Monster was being oddly accommodating here. Considering how much leverage Gohvis had over him, holding his daughter captive, there was obviously quite a different approach that the man could have decided to take.

But then, maybe Gohvis was just trying to use the carrot before resorting to the stick.

Zeff didn’t really want to find out, though it certainly would’ve clarified a few things about the mysterious character of this man in front of him. Was it worth pushing for, he wondered? To gain vital information?

No. Not yet, at least. Not before consulting Ax and the others.

And so, he found himself holding his tongue yet again. Probably the wiser course of action in the presence of these juggernauts.

Yet, somehow, he still couldn’t help feeling disappointed in himself.

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