The Doll Maker

by Arrixam

Slowly slipping into madness like his father, spending days and nights endlessly crafting his armies, facing forces not meant to be seen by mortal men, he was called upon by one most desperate of his abilities. Now in a new world, will this be for the better for Tristain? Or will it implode on itself? Contains OC Archmage/Sorcerer

5. Artemis the Faker

A note from the author!

So I thought about posting my wiki to my profile. Been working on it for six years and had every bit of information relating to all of my stories, including the one Artemis comes from. Important word: HAD. Recently, that wiki was deleted with the administrators stating it had no factual evidence. It's been up for six years and they choose just recently to delete it? Not to mention they refuse to allow me to retrieve my information? My word, my rage knew no bounds that day.

Moving on, I elaborate a LOT on Artemis' history here as well as how his magic works. The story progresses as at a good pace and we go over the Count Mott hurdle. Not going to lie. I had planned on ignoring it, but a lot of you asked for it. So here it is. Enjoy!

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Chapter 4

I am a [False] Hero

(Part 1)

"So Ms. Longuevuille was Foquet all along…" grieved the headmaster as he leaned back in his chair and began to stroke his beard.

I call bullshit, by the way. There was no way the headmaster couldn't have known the green-haired witch was such a notorious thief. He obviously knew who she was. How? He wouldn't have let her come along with me in the quest to retrieve the Staff of Destruction as well as capturing Foquet. We can't capture Foquet if she wasn't present, can we? She wasn't sent to keep an eye on me as the headmaster had sent his familiar with me instead.

The old man may have been a pervert, and he may have hired Longuevuille because she let him 'flirt' with her, but he was a wile one. The only clue I needed was the fact he was a pervert to begin with. Most people tend to ignore them or treat them as fools; but with my experience from Lolifor and his Jinni partner I had learned well perverts are one of the types to be wary of the most. Their eyes are sharp, their words twice so, and everyone prefers to pretend they don't exist and allows them to do whatever they wish.

He had been able to fool me and then subject me into fulfilling his task. He may have lured Foquet into his services with the intentions of capturing him to bring credibility onto himself. No, perverts hate attention like that, if my misadventures with Lolifor had anything to say. He could have been using Foquet just as much and then grant her a false sense of security which led to her breaking into the treasure vault— for me to defend against. It's far too coincidental the thief had shown up but a few days after I showed up and defeated Guiche. Osmond even openly admitted he was keeping my existence a secret through his resources. Who was to say this entire fiasco wasn't written by him?

But I couldn't help but ask myself… Why? What did he have to gain by doing this? If I was the Gandálfr, this religious figure of awesome power, then it would have been far more advantageous to keep that knowledge to himself rather than tell me.

My eyes wandered towards Colbert, who was standing beside the headmaster's desk as he had during the teacher's meeting. He was the one who discovered I was the Gandálfr. Where did he play in all of this?

I'm also amazed the little rodent Motsognir managed to survive by hiding within my clothes. I don't know if it was some kind of shit-tastic luck or if it was a true feat in using its ridiculous reserves of magic. Regardless, the familiar had been able to keep a live feed of everything that had been happening and transfer all of its experience back to its master. Old Osmond had seen the battle, the girls intervening, the destruction wrought by the Mjornir, the unveiling of Foquet's identity…

But he didn't see the Lífþrasir. Why?

I should also mention right now Guiche wasn't with us. When we decided to head back to the academy, we had discussed travel arrangements and Guiche ended up getting the shorter stick. Miraculously, the horse Mercedes had survived the golem's rampage and hadn't fled either, but it also meant someone had to drive her back. I refused as Mercedes and I have an understanding that we will one day kill the other in a grand battle in which will restructure the tectonic plates. Kirche refused to leave my side and Louise refused to leave Kirche alone with me.

And seeing as how Tabitha was the master of her dragon, Sylphid, she got to ride by default. Sylphid was able to fly all four of us while we left Guiche behind. It only took us twenty minutes. It'll take Guiche another hour and a half to get here.

"Yes, we're sorry Headmaster," Louise bowed her head in… guilt, I could only assume. It was hard to tell how she was feeling after all of this. "We were unable to recover the Staff of Destruction and Foquet took off with it after learning how to use it."

The headmaster gave something of a grunt before shaking his head. "Foquet is a well-known thief who has escaped the clutches of many skilled Nobles. I've no doubt she may have had some hidden method of escaping— to which I find myself baffled with. How exactly did she manage to escape? As I recalled, Mr. Philips' golem had been able to subdue her."

"Well… Headmaster…" Louise began but looked away in thought. The same expression was shared with Kirche while Tabitha looked up from her book with the slightest crease of her brows to indicate she was thinking hard.

This is where I couldn't understand. None of the girls or the headmaster had not only been able to see Lífþrasir, but they also couldn't remember encountering him. Yet I could remember him, albeit the details were fuzzy. I didn't know if this was due to my state of mental weakness from assimilating my Jinni's progress or because of some ability of Lífþrasir's. If no one could remember, then my money was on the latter.

Which raised the question why I could. With a mild diagnosis scan onto Louise, I hadn't been able to find any sort of foreign interference in her system— magical, spiritual, or mental. Perhaps if I was of the right of mind with more time and proper permission from Louise I would be able to dive into her memories and see for myself what she was lacking and why it was.

But the headache from my Jinni was killing me.

"Foquet had an accomplice," I began while keeping my hand pressed against the side of my head. Currently, I was replicating a spell to cycle over and over again to chill the hair my hand was touching. It was the only thing keeping my head from exploding. "He had some sort of cloaking technique which hid his presence. Nothing but direct eye contact could detect him, and I've a feeling he was weakening it for me to see him. However, I can't give a theory on how he was able to manipulate everyone's memory, including yours, Osmond. As you were watching everything through the eyes of your familiar you should have been unaffected by it."

"So you're saying this was a powerful mage?" questioned Kirche.

"No," the headmaster began stroking his beard again as his voice turned grave. "I fear this is the magic of an elf. As Mr. Philips says, I shouldn't have been affected by this curse and he's right. However… for it to affect me…"

"Not elf," said Tabitha.

Eyes turned her way, but she didn't elaborate any further.

"All elves use Natural— I mean, use the spirits as their base of magic formula, don't they?" I asked. After receiving a nod from both Osmond and Tabitha, I continued. "Then this person wasn't an elf. He wasn't a mage in any way. There wasn't a trace of magic on him and there is no unnatural influence lingering on any of us. Even the most skilled surgical mages leave a mark, no matter how small, and I don't detect anything."

Louise gaped, "A-Are you saying we were all defeated by some C-C-Commoner?! Four mages of Tristain's most noble Academy of Magic and you, the great Archmage Sorcerer?! Preposterous!"

Oh Louise. The so-called 'Commoners' of Earth could outright destroy any magician of this world. Let's take for example the special forces of the American Union, British Isles, or Dominion of China. Or maybe the Vatican's Paladin Knights and Exorcists. Or the Red Tide terrorists. All of which use mundane methods of performing their duties.

Osmond picked up his head. "Oh? And how can you assure this?"

"I'm afraid that's where I draw the line," was all I said. There was no reason for me to go into detail on how I can perceive the String World. Not only would it take me too long and especially with my headache, but it would reveal too much information about me. I do not trust Osmond, period.

I won't mention he was the Lífþrasir if no one else could remember. Or that he made mention of the Vindálfr, the so-called King of Romalia. I didn't know what to make of it, seeing as the ruler of Romalia was the pope of the Brimiric faith. But then again, he called me the King of Tristain while calling himself the Predator of Albion.

"Now I know you're making this all up…" Louise muttered under her breath but it was loud enough for me to hear.

"But surely there is something you can say?" Colbert spoke up. "You seem to be the only person who witnessed this mysterious individual. Any information you can share may be valuable in revealing his identity."

I stared at Colbert, trying to figure out what his angle was, if he had any. He could have been Osmond's right hand, could have been just another pawn, or he could have true concern for his students. It was so hard to tell with how he kept reacting. It was also hard to tell with this rampaging headache that was gradually growing worse.

"He was covered completely in black armor fashioned from the same metal which made the Staff of Destruction," I decided to reveal. "Metal in which is not natural and can only be synthesized through nuclear deconstruction-reconstruction at the molecular level. It is also resistant to extreme force, pressure, and external energy-based sources— especially magic."

Osmond couldn't hide the little twitch in his brow at my description. He did well to hold it back, but it was enough to catch my attention. He knew something.

"…New clean air, what?" asked Louise, trying to identify the word which won't be discovered until centuries later.

"So… he was an alchemist?" asked Kirche.

Ugh…

"Headmaster Osmond," it would be best if I ignore those two and pressed the matter directly. "The Staff of Destruction— the 7-12 Mjornir— is not something you will find locally due to your civilization's lack of technological progress. It is a weapon centuries more advanced than anything you can produce. It is even more advanced than some of the things… where I come from. How did you get your hands on it?"

Once again, the headmaster leaned back in his chair and began stroking his beard. He kept quiet in thought, without a doubt determining whether to share his knowledge or not. "It was many years ago when I was much younger. Not too far from here, I was attacked by a wild dragon. My life would have been forfeited if not…"

There was silence as we all waited patiently for him to resume his story.

"A man had appeared wearing armor matching your description. Black as night and could not reflect the sun or the flames of the dragon. This man had leapt in front of me and took the blast of the dragon's breath without so much as faltering! But, I am afraid, the man was already suffering from a wound of unknown origin. He had difficulty breathing and was hunched over in exhaustion. Yet he lured the dragon away from me and delivered the final blow with the Staff of Destruction.

"We were able to bring him back to the academy to treat his wounds, but no one could unfashion his armor. He could not tell us either as he spoke in an unknown language. And no Water magic could seep through the gaps as though the flexible material he wore underneath was sealed tight. As you have verified earlier, even our most effective healing spells were depleted at the armor's touch. I'm afraid I could not return the favor of the stranger as he died from his wounds. I do not even know what his face looked like."

"And I take it you kept the man's equipment; or at least what you could remove from his person?" I asked.

Osmond grunted, "No, not everything. There were some things we could have removed such as his… strange musket and daggers. Those were buried along with him. However, I did take the Staff of Destruction. It was, by far, too powerful to leave alone; but none of us could destroy it. The academy professors at the time had decided to seal it away deep in the treasure vault and to keep quiet about it forever. Not even the Royal Family knows of its existence."

"Foquet knew," stated Tabitha.

"She knew exactly where to find it within the vault, too," I added. "In and out without any hesitation. Care to explain that one?"

"Umm…"

All eyes, including the Headmaster's, turned towards Colbert. The bald professor was looking away from us with guilt written across his face. He scratched the lower left of his jaw as well. "I… may have given Ms. Longuevuille a tour of the treasure vault…"

I wanted to ask the most sarcastic 'Really?' I had ever given in my life. I wanted to. But I had found myself in a similar situation a long time ago. My half-sister Iris had guiled me into doing a lot of stupid things with her when we were dating.

Yeah that's right. I was dating my half-sister. And it has nothing to do with me growing up in Kentucky! We had two different mothers and grew up together as childhood friends. No one told us we were siblings.

Ah, what a fun little fiasco that was: the day we learned we had the same father.

I waved at Colbert's explanation to get back on track of things. "As far as I can tell, the accomplice of Foquet comes from the same civilization as your savior, Osmond. However, finding their origins will be nearly impossible. Their technologies are relative to the ones found from where I come from. But even then I would have to say they are a few decades more advance than ours. If I was summoned to this land from a place beyond your reach, I can only say that they come from a place beyond my reach."

I wondered if it was possible for him to be from an Earth more advanced than the one I was from. Due to the Law of Progress, the Original Law of omnipotence in which states 'All is Infinite', there are infinite possibilities of every decision made from everyone and everything. However, Time is a Primordial concept and came after Original Law. Therefore, thanks to the Law of Progress, there is only a Present stream of existence. Past and Future are only concepts and cannot exist in reality.

Take for example my other Sorcery: the Reverse. It does not allow me to go back in time. It causes Time to come to a halt, to delete advancement, and then replays everything from a certain frame. The Law of Progress is still in effect and so Progress dictates that I am still moving forward, just copying past events and writing them over the present.

To get to the point, just because I can qualify as a Traveler did not mean I could go to alternative versions of Earth. There was no way to prove my theory. It was just speculation.

But it still made me worry and crave answers enough to drive me up the wall. How in the hell did he use a gun to destroy my Jinni? I will admit with his cloaking device he would have been able to land a blow, but to have a weapon capable of piercing through Djinn metal? Metal with high enough resistance to shrug off the Storm King's Miracles of destruction?

It meant his gun had to be on par with Phenomenon of the Fae. Which meant it had to be just as destructive as Excalibur or Creyroux. Then again… looking at the devastation the Mjornir brought made it seem plausible.

Just what kind of monsters did that Earth face against to need such weapons?

"Some place even beyond the Rub'al Khali?" Kirche tilted her head and asked me. "That must be just at the edge of the world!"

A new headache was forming. I chose to pretend I didn't hear her. I could have sworn she was going off about the world being flat or something blasphemous like that with the way she mentioned the edge of the world. Please let her mean the edge of a map instead!

"Yes, that would make sense," Osmond shattered those hopes of mine. "The unknown creatures beyond the horizon must be just as fearsome as the legends foretold. Such a civilization would have weapons to fend off such monsters."

"In any case," my head was ringing and I was finding it difficult to follow their words. "This is all that we have to report. Unless Foquet or her accomplice chooses to reveal themselves in the future, there is nothing we can do. There is no way of tracking them through mystic or mundane methods as well. Osmond, I believe you have everything you need. If that is all, I would like this meeting to be dismissed."

"Familiar!" Louise hissed at the disrespect I had towards the headmaster.

"I understand," the headmaster nodded anyways. "As you say, this expedition has indeed shown me what I needed to confirm. And I can see you require rest. I'll not trouble you any further. But will I be seeing you tonight attending the Sleipnir Ball?"

"…More than likely not," I shook my head. I wasn't aware of any event taking place tonight, but then again it's not like I listened to the gossip of the academy. It was more than likely the equivalent of a high school dance. Except without the grinding and a lot of stiff noble brats. In my current condition, I'd more than likely kill a few of them after finding myself in another duel.

With nothing else to share, I picked up Kirche's talking sword and headed towards the door.

"Just one moment, Ms. Vallière," the headmaster spoke up just as all of us were about to leave. "I need to have a word with—"

"No," I interjected. "Osmond, if it is about that then I strongly suggest you keep it in the dark. When she's ready, I will tell her."

We both stared at another, challenging the other to see which of us would make the first move and which would stand down. He learned I was the Gandálfr and thus was Louise a magician of the Void element. He wanted to tell her and then, more than likely, mold her into whatever mesh he so desired. However, Louise wasn't ready for such a burden. As she is now she will more than likely let this go straight to her head. She wouldn't be responsible with the powers of the Void— whatever that meant— and would use it for her selfish needs. Her immaturity would more than likely have her seeking revenge on all those who wronged her… which was an extraordinarily long list.

The same thing happened to the Sun King, the single most powerful King in all of Ilyvander's history… who just so happened to hate humanity as a whole. It took the united force of the current Storm King P'Zylor, Mystic King Vyrn, Void King Vladimir, my father, and several Primordial beings to stop her.

Osmond gruffed but leaned back in his chair. I nodded and then left the office.

*Scene*

"Familiar, what was that all about?" Louise demanded of me as soon as we departed from Kirche and Tabitha.

Granted, the only thing I heard from her at this point was 'Familiar'. But I could guess what the rest of her words were based on her tone. It was getting more difficult to think. And the tall windows leading back to her room weren't helping with the intense rays of sunlight stinging my eyes.

"When you're ready, I will tell you," I replied. Knowing she wouldn't accept that answer, I gave her a little bit more just for her to shut the hell up. Seriously, her high-pitched voice was like nails on a chalkboard. "But I believe we have found the problem to your casting. Tomorrow I will show you."

She stopped walking for a moment. I stopped too… mostly because she had the key to the room and couldn't enter without her. Or without me kicking the door open. "R…Really?" her voice was filled with hope.

"Yeah," I groaned and rubbed my temple. My chilling spell had stopped cycling and I couldn't recall how to cast it. My head was ready to split open and I was losing my patience. But priorities took over or else I would have lied down here in the hallway. I did not trust the academy staff and the wards placed in Louise's room made it the safest place on this God-awful planet.

Thankfully she did shut up and we proceeded to the room. I had to use my hand against the wall to keep myself steady by the time we reached her dorm. And I was getting anxious with counting milliseconds with how she was taking forever in turning the key. I never realized how annoying two seconds could be.

Finally in, I went straight towards the pile of hay she continued to leave out as my bed. I never had any intention of using it as it would give her the impression that I was her familiar. However, I didn't want to fight with her if I chose to sleep on her bed or sprawl myself in the middle of the floor. And the pile of hay was in the only corner not occupied with furniture. So it would have to do.

With my head ringing like a hornet's nest exploding (not the insects, mind you; the grenade with rubber pellets going everywhere), I lied down on my side and let sleep overtake me. Louise had said something to me, but I was too long gone to hear a word.

*Scene*

Alyse was waiting for me just outside of town. Her clothes were washed and repaired. She looked as stunning as she did the first time I saw her at this level. I would have never guessed she was once a small porcelain doll no bigger than a foot tall. She swayed back and forth like any normal girl would have on a bright spring day, humming a tune I wasn't familiar with but still found catchy. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. This was my Alyse, after all.

"Alyse, is everything okay?" I questioned. Although it was nice to see her go out of her way to meet me here, I couldn't help but wonder something was wrong. Her smile faltered slightly when she saw me approaching. She tried to hide it by continuing to sway and hum, but I had noticed too soon.

She gave me a soft smile as she pressed two gloved fingers against the lining of her hat, "Master, I wish to speak with you in private."

…Which left me alone with Alyse and no one to protect me. Bladeworks, Reaper, and Terah were home by this time. Lolifor and Moe were off celebrating after capturing Fishy the Trickster. The Storm Princess was nowhere to be found. The Rider's men would sure as all hell leave us alone. And Iris and Breaker were occupied with their own plans as far as I knew. Thus, nothing would disturb us.

Thus, nothing could possibly come to my rescue.

Alyse showed no sign of malevolence. She took a seat on the grass and gestured for me to join her. And who was I, the man terrified of having a magic brick strike me at any given chance, to reject her offer? Naturally, and almost too quickly to be as casual as she was, I joined her.

I was taken off-guard when she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me to the ground. Her hat rolled off of her head as she rested herself against my chest. It wasn't a forceful gesture. Suffice to say, I let it happen at the slightest push. Not out of fear this time. Completely by sheer surprise.

"A-Alyse?" I sputtered like some grade school idiot.

Her hand reached over me and pulled mine to her face. She nuzzled her cheek against it. "I would have never been able to know this feeling without you," her voice was soft. It reminded me of the first time I saw her like this. She shed tears of joy when she had achieved this level.

This was a feeling I, as well as any human should, was very familiar with. Flesh against flesh. It was not some synthetic substitute the top level Djinn were supposed to be made of. It was warm, flexible, soft, fragile yet firm. It was the feeling of a human girl.

Her chest pressed against my forearm. I could feel the silent vibrations of her heart beating. I could see the blood rushing to her face as she blushed by the sensation. These feelings would be overwhelming to someone who had never known them before, I could only assume. Right now she was enjoying the feeling of having body contact. She played with my hand against her cheek as she pressed her body closer to mine and her face up more on my chest. She was almost entirely on top of me before she stopped.

I rubbed her shoulders, which let to me rubbing my arm up and down her back. She gave a slight moan of comfort, now enjoying this new feeling. I suppose as a healthy young man at the age of sixteen I should be turned on by this. However, even with just a few short weeks spent with Alyse I knew her already well enough to pick up on the way she thinks. If emotional girls wore their emotions on their sleeves, Alyse was the type to wear hers in a full overly-frilly dress. She wanted to speak to me in private and her silence told me everything.

Something was very wrong.

My hand stopped moving. As I knew her behaviors, she knew mine. She spoke, "Mas— no, Artemis, do you really love me?"

I almost laughed. Alyse and I weren't so far off. As she wears her emotions in a dress, I wear mine in a fine-tailored suit. When I told her yesterday I loved her I meant every word. Alyse was very precious to me. I would die for her, and I knew she would for me. I had a long list of complaints against her, and I'm very sure she had just as long for me. However, I would never want her to change. I loved her for who she was and wanted to keep her like this forever.

"Absolutely," I didn't hesitate to answer.

Her next question had been prepared, "Who do you love more?"

I hesitated. I knew what she meant. I wasn't some fool who would deny anything and question what she meant by the use of 'more'. Alyse knew, and could probably tell as bright as day, I was still in love with Iris. Iris was my first love, after all. And Iris loved me back. I'll never forgive her for choosing Matthew after everything that happened, but it wasn't enough for me to stop loving her. The question Alyse asked wasn't fair in any way. However, it wasn't fair of me to ignore it either.

"I don't know," I said in a half-lie.

My feelings for Alyse were still new. I loved Alyse, but did I love her in a romantic way? Or was I so hurt and broken I desperately sought out the closest comfort? No, that wasn't important. With enough time I knew I could love Alyse more than anyone in the world. But right now? I could only say if I would have to choose to save Alyse or Iris in some sort of death-threat I would eventually choose to save Iris. Conflicts of the decision-making be damned. The end result was I loved Iris slightly more than I loved Alyse.

I refused to acknowledge that love for Iris, however.

Alyse was silent. She hadn't been prepared this time for my response. She didn't react in any noticeable way other than putting her hand on my chest. She just lied there. Her breathing remained the same. Nothing else about her changed. As she remained there thinking things over, I looked up at the sky and let my mind wander.

What exactly was Alyse to me? What about the other girls? Surely Alyse holds a special place, but why had I gone against everything to protect the others? What was Reaper to me? What was Baker? What about Bladeworks?

I closed my eyes and relaxed. I can't remember a time I've ever felt so tired before. My mind was a wreck, my body was sore and felt like pudding from both Craven magic and excessive Gear use, and my heart was hurting from having so many emotions flood through me at once. I am a man. We're not designed to go through such emotional turmoil. The soft breeze of midday spring felt so relieving to me. The sun was bright but not overpowering; in fact, the rays felt like food to me. Perhaps, since sunlight was the source of magic, my reserves of Spirit were being replenished.

Alyse shifted. I paid no attention as my mind was starting to find peace. I shouldn't, but if we were to remain like this then I might fall asleep—

Alyse's soft lips touched mine.

I opened my eyes slightly out of both curiosity and surprise. Leaning over me, her chest against mine, a hand at my shoulder, fingers locked around mine, eyes closed, and lips pressed gently against mine. She pecked me once and waited an agonizing second to see how I would react. Only one second, yet it felt like a full minute. I didn't reject her. I selfishly wanted more.

Her lips touched mine once more. This time I pressed my freehand against her back and returned her kiss. Our hands clenched, but our kiss remained as gentle as feathers gracing each other. It almost tickled, admittedly. She sighed, either in triumph or pleasure, probably both. I held her tighter; the hand on my shoulder slid towards my cheek.

Our lips parted. Our eyes opened. Her eyes were just brimming with startling tears. A strong blush covered her cheeks. Those mystic blue eyes of hers were full of cravings. "Master," her voice was quiet as she panted with excitement. "I love

#$%

"Master Artemis, My Lord, I shall inquire regarding my previous question."

I sipped my coffee just to draw out as much time as I could. I had my answer long before we arrived in the diner. Rather, I knew the answer immediately prior to her question; I didn't have a way to explain it until now. The trip to the diner was enough time for me to figure that out. This moment of enjoying my coffee was just a way to organize the layout.

"There really isn't a reason I expect you to understand, Bladeworks," my voice was just as sharp as hers. "I killed Rider and his master, my old best friend." I wondered as I said the latter if normal people would feel bitter or sad. I said it with spite. Matthew was my friend, yes. But he became an enemy when he revealed who he really was in the game. Thanks to Cleric's Reverse Sorcery, this would be the second time I took his life. Perhaps this time it had become second nature.

"I don't regret it or how it was done," I continued. My eyes never left hers. Her eyes narrowed, but nothing else noticeable happened. "And I think it's fair to let you know right now I have no interest in winning the game." This time her eyes flashed in what I could argue as either confusion or rage. Even Alyse shifted in her seat beside me. "I've also come to realize the both of you will participate no matter what. I won't stop either of you."

Alyse turned her head but kept her stare at the table, "But you won't support us, will you?"

I didn't answer, "Regardless, the Rider, his master, and several Djinn as well as their masters are out of the game as of last night. Wouldn't you say this was a victory?"

Her armor clanked as her shoulders shifted. Metal grinding and leather rubbing reached my ears. Her fists were clenched under the table. "A victory? Nay. A battle won through treachery is lowly. Only the cowardly parlay with tricks. The weak and unworthy, Master Artemis. I have seen thy might. Thoust power is grand! Truly thou needn'st the will to lay so low. Does thou, My Lord?"

"Not at all," I shrugged. "It was more personal, really. I have history against him. I'm not very comfortable, but if you really want to know I can tell you the bare minimum."

She shook her head, "I'll not pry into thine affairs, My Lord. I respect thy privacy. My sword is still thoust to wield. I shall follow thine orders till my being returns to His Holiness."

It bothered me to how she did not agree with me but didn't bother to question it without hesitation. She didn't like what happened last night, even going as far as to confront me when her nerves couldn't stand it anymore. Yet, she continued to follow me rather than find her own way. I'm sure Zerro or Iris would be more than willing to take her if she asked.

What bothered me was the undying loyalty towards me.

"Bladeworks…"

"Yes, My Lord," it wasn't a question. She was agreeing already to what question or order I was about to give.

"Would you die for me?"

Alyse sipped her tea, eyeing me in the corner for a moment.

"I am thy sword; I shall strike down thine enemies. When I must, I shall be thy shield; I shall defend thyself to no end," she pleaded as she leaned forward. She looked like a cute girl trying to prove something impossible was true.

I sighed. Alyse turned her head as though she knew what I was about to say. Her brows furrowed.

"Why?" I asked.

Her answer came without hesitation, "Thy will is strong and might worthy of praise. Master Artemis, thou'st still young, but vigorous. Fire burns bright in thine heart! Thoust Spirit is brilliant to humble not only myself, but thrice more. My Lord, thou art truly built to lead."

I had expected some sort of answer like this one. I couldn't respond. Not because it was a huge compliment to totally knock me off my feet. No, and it wasn't. I couldn't respond because it was the biggest bullshit reason I've ever heard. I trust Bladeworks, I really do. I just wish she wasn't such a tool.

"Then if I told you to die, would you?"

"Yes, My Lord! As I am Bladeworks Fifth Tier, I shall charge into battle in thine glory!"

I grimaced. She didn't understand the question. "No, Bladeworks. Would you kill yourself if I told you to break your head open with your own sword?"

Silence.

Bladeworks' eyes searched through me. From my left eye, to my right, and repeated over a few times. On occasion she would look at Alyse, whose whole body had turned my way. I paid her no mind as all of my attention was locked on Bladeworks.

Her body stiffened when she answered, "I am thy sword. Tis only fair to discard one when no longer useful."

"How about right here and now?" I pressed on, "Bladeworks Fifth Tier, as your master I order you to die."

"A-Artemis!" Alyse couldn't stay quiet anymore. Her face was violet with rage.

But the color vanished when I put my hand over her leg and gave a firm squeeze. It was a gesture telling her to trust me. I'm glad she understood what it meant. Her body turned back around. She dipped her head and slid a hand under the table to cup mine.

Bladeworks was in absolute shock. Her lips quivered, unsure of the words she should use. Her eyes were wide. Her body shook as thousands of emotions crossed and exploded from within, yet her senses were too shocked to express any of them. I was watching a storm erupt from within a glass container.

Sadness overwhelmed her. She looked ready to cry. Her head bowed, no longer able to look at me any further. Defiant at first, she unsheathed her sword with a shaky hand. "Yes… My Lord. If it is thy wish."

"Why?" I almost growled.

Her head snapped up in shock. The expression I couldn't hide brought in a new zeal of surprise to her. Both my hands clenched into tight fists. This was exactly what I was talking about. I don't want anyone to die for this stupid game, Jinni or human. Call me a hypocrite. I, however, especially don't want someone as loyal, determined, and righteous as Bladeworks, or any of the Djinn under my care, to die for this game. To have Bladeworks agree was sickening.

Godking Dalang, what the fuck have you done to these people?

"Why?" my voice nearly exploded in rage.

Alyse put both her hands over my right fist and gave a tight squeeze. Her head was ducked. She was silent.

Bladeworks recovered some of her posture, "I-It is because you are my master, Artemis."

She was so distraught she had forgotten the Shakespearean vocabulary.

"What does that mean?" I urged on. "Why do you serve me? Why be my knight? My 'sword and shield'? It's hardly been three days and you would willingly kill yourself because I told you to? Why, Bladeworks? What does it mean to have me as your master to throw away everything you aimed for in life?"

She looked away, no longer able to look at me. She looked so lost. "M-Master, I find thy might—"

"Enough of the bullshit," I hissed. It was then I caught how pissed off I was. My words and my tone were sharp enough to cause both the girls to flinch. I needed to calm down. I sipped my coffee. Even then I still had difficulty with a shaky cup nearly spilling hot liquid down my chin.

I took a deep breath and counted to ten. Some of the anger had subsided by then, but not enough. Unfortunately, this wasn't a topic I could just ignore.

"Bladeworks

#$%

"Artemis," croaked Matthew.

My eyes shifted down at him. My hand was still squeezing his throat while the other was clenching around the Reaper scythe. His hands were wrapped around my wrist as he struggled to pry it off. Matthew had always been stronger than me; he always played sports while I was always studying. But this time he was better off trying to move a statue.

I saw the look Alyse gave me the moment I reached for the knife hidden in the leather bindings at my hip. I knew she didn't agree, but she also told me she understood my reasoning in that lone second. Matthew gasped air as I moved my hand away. He didn't know what I was about to do, unfortunately. The knife I drew was serrated, used for carving flesh with ease in order to kill the target in one precise strike. A Craven doesn't fail, after all.

I used it to chip off a chunk of meat off his face. He screamed and flailed. I used the knife to pin the fat of his arm to the ground to stop him from squirming. He screamed louder. And as he tried to move in a natural reaction against the pain, his arm wiggled and forced the wound to deepen. I'd have to operate quickly and efficiently. The human body can only take so much pain before shutting down.

I pulled three long needles from a special holster. Again, hidden from plain view. Before he could calm down and figure out moving around was hurting him even more, I pinned his palm, bicep, and left ear to the floor. The needles were more than thick and long enough to hold him down stably.

Casually, I unwrapped one of the leather bindings around my arm. As he screamed once more, I shoved the leather strap in his mouth. It wouldn't do for him to bite his tongue off, would it?

"Master?"

I looked up. Alyse put a hand on my shoulder. Looking around, there was a heavy amount of disgust on Bladeworks' face. Lolifor's face was stoic; I suspected he was more worried about his own health than what I was doing, as he was using the Storm Slayer as a third leg. Breaker had dragged Iris towards our general area to avoid being surrounded. I wonder what Reaper would have thought if she saw what was going on. Perhaps she was… I don't know much about this sort of bond or fusion fiasco.

Worry covered Alyse's face. She said my name; her tone told me she had been calling out to me for some time now. I had been too lost in my cold anger to notice my surroundings. It was the look I gave her that told her to step away. She obeyed, yet held some ground as her face returned to the respectful and obedient Jinni she always tried to be.

"What shall we do?"

We were surrounded, without a doubt. There were over thirty Djinn present, yet not one of them were above Level-5 from what I could tell. Bladeworks must have been second to Pyro; the shouts and snarls of calling her traitor reached my ears from the crowds. And there weren't just Djinn, nor were there just masters. There were regular civilians as well. They had come out here in the dead of night to watch a fight. Those who suspected one of them would die probably fled out of fear of the law or some sense of morality. But the rest had stayed and cheered it on.

My lips twitched. Bladeworks turned her head slightly my way while keeping her eyes moving around the area. Lolifor shut his eyes and took in a deep breath. He knew my answer. And Matthew squealed once more; tears and snot were running down his cheeks. His eyes were shooting around from person to person. I wonder what his mind must have been thinking. He would have no recollection of anything relating to Pyro. He would have just found himself in the middle of the freshly reaped land without a reason.

"Kill them," I ordered, looking directly at Matthew as I said so. "All of them."

Alyse didn't move.

Bladeworks was hesitant. But she shifted her stance and cried, "Yes, My Lord!" She was the first to charge with her sword drawn at shoulder-height. Nowhere near as fast as I was with the Gears, but still more rapid than a human could ever hope to achieve. The first Jinni she slashed had its head cleanly split in two. Those around her staggered before she cut apart two more.

Alyse twirled her wand and turned towards the opposite end. Bladeworks was cleaving left and right while dodging and deflecting attacks with ease; Alyse didn't need to assist her. Without losing the look of disgust, she crafted her ethereal arrows and fired them accurately at every Jinni. It only took one arrow to completely shatter them, regardless of level. None got close to her and those who could attempt a long-range attack failed by the strength of her magic shield.

I was startled and suspicious when Breaker walked up to me and handed over a very long and sharp dagger hilt-first. A twisted, sickening smile was spread across his broken shell. His eyes were glossy. I had seen that look when he was lost in thought with himself, when he was reciting general information about me the first day I met him. The smile and the gesture of the blade told me: he knew what I was about to pull off, somehow.

Lolifor remained where he stood, watching the onslaught. The people weren't fleeing. They were just watching the battle they couldn't understand. The Djinn had called it a game, and so to them it was. What did they care if dolls were killing each other? They were only dolls after all. It's not like they have lives of their own. Some of the people were even snickering. A pair of boys were exchanging dollar bills from some private wager.

An example needed to be made.

I moved off of Matthew and crossed over him. My voice was louder than it should have been. I had everyone's attention. Djinn, as well as my own, included. "To all of you sick fucks who came out here to see someone die…"

I grabbed Matthew by the hair and pulled his head up. He saw the dagger. He started to fight for his life, even if it meant losing both his arms. It didn't matter at this point.

I sliced his neck open, shoving and tearing at the flesh deep enough for the blade to grind against his spine. The noises he made were slightly unsettling.

Alyse dropped her wand and paled. Bladeworks let her sword drop to her side; her face was solemn, if not slightly more disgusted. Lolifor's brows twitched; that was his only reaction. Iris stared at what had been done with her face frozen in horror. Breaker kept his twisted smile, chuckling too quietly for normal ears to hear. And everyone was swearing, gasping, and overdramatically freaking out.

But I would change that.

My fingers dug into his eye sockets, popping the eyeballs with no effort. I only needed the holes for leverage.

"Three," I commanded. My third Gear launched into activation. I felt my muscles being reinforced.

With one foot on his shoulder and a hand in his skull, I tore off Matthew's head. Strings of his spine and membrane dangled below where the neck should have been. I raised it above me for all to see. His liquids swam down my arm. Everyone was silent. People fainted. People threw up. People were so horrified by this the smell of feces wrinkled my nose. Iris had fainted. Even Lolifor looked a little green with his tanned skin. Breaker, however, had his smile grow to where he bared his teeth.

Tears fell down Alyse's face. She no longer looked disgusted. She was conflicted. I had seen that look many times on both her and my sister; Alyse didn't know what to do.

I chucked Matthew's head at the nearest human. Here's your dead.

Stephanie McClain, a girl in my history class, was the one to catch it. Her eyes bore into the empty holes. She screamed as loud as she could, dropped it, and stumbled as she backed away.

I roared out. My voice, amplified by Gears and Craven magic, was loud enough to shake the air. It wasn't a human shout of rage. I was pissed. I was upset. I wanted them all dead. Matthew's death had been unsatisfying, no matter the method I used. And still, my voice was no longer human.

It was beastly. Something out of a nightmare.

It finally clicked on everyone to get the hell away from me. Bladeworks and Alyse had to take several steps away from me out of the instinct of fear. Lolifor had shut his eyes and ignored me. Breaker took one cautious step back before extending his smile wider. He was loving my display.

I fell to my knees when everyone was gone. But I shouted once more. This time, for myself. Tears rolled down. I gasped. I let everything out with one more roar as I slammed my fists into the dirt as hard as I could. A small burst cloud shot up by my amplified strength. It didn't bother me.

A firm hand gripped my shoulder. It was Iris; she had awakened. She pulled me up enough to look at her. My ears were ringing. I couldn't hear what she was saying to me. Nevertheless, I grabbed her and embraced her. She embraced me as well, combing her fingers through my hair and whispering assurances I wasn't able to hear. It didn't matter; I let out what was needed then.

I had killed my childhood friend. I hated him. I always wanted to kill him. I don't regret doing what I just did, especially not in the way I disrespected him. Yet, Matthew was the closest thing to a brother I ever had. It means something when I say I had just as many happy moments with him as I had terrible ones.

And Iris knew this. She was shaking. She was crying for the same reasons.

*Scene*

I can't recall the last time I've had a dream. Maybe a few years ago during the early days of becoming Godking Dalang. The Storm King sent an invading force when word had spread that Judge Quinn had abandoned the borders and the previous Godking, my father, had gone missing. After a week of struggling I had succeeded in driving the forces away. Later, the Storm King would send me an invitation, to which I begrudgingly accepted, and excused the invasion as a means to test whether the new Godking was worthy of being an Ilyvander King.

Many Djinn had died in the invasion. Due to the flaw of Doll Maker, all of their collective experiences had to go somewhere. Were I as skilled as my father in the Sorcery, I could have transferred the experiences on the spot to the nearest Sentinel. Instead, they went straight to me. If I didn't have my girls and Solstice… who knows how long I would have been mad.

But in those moments when I wasn't… myself, and in those times when my mind was trying to repair itself, memories I had suppressed so deep would come back. It didn't matter whether those memories were good or bad; they were the reminder of the worst time of my life. In those horrific two weeks which repeated itself three times due to the Reverse Sorcery, I had friends become enemies, people I grew up with die, and even I became something of a monster. In the name of greed, a small farming town had its citizens turn into schemers, thieves, and murderers.

On the other hand, I had met each of my girls because of the Godking's Rite.

However, if there was a chance to have avoided it, even if it meant never meeting the girls, I would have taken it. The girls knew it too. I wouldn't dare to hide it from them and they knew why I was like this.

Terah would still be alive.

My eyes fluttered open. It took a while for me to regain my bearings. The sun had set and the candles and lanterns in the room had gone out for quite some time. Long enough for the smoke to clear out. There was also no noise I could pick up from outside the window. It was more than likely the dead of night.

I sat up… or at least tried to. Rubbing my hand through my hair to help clear my thoughts, I distributed Craven magic through my system to my eyes. To my shock, I wasn't sleeping on the pile of hay like I thought I was. Instead, I was lying on Louise's king-size bed with some of the sheets over my torso. The Fae sword was leaning against the wall to my left.

And lying beside me with her head against my shoulder was Louise.

She hadn't been prepared for bed either. Her hair was done neatly in a tight bun, jewelry decorated all over her body, a beautiful maroon dress went down to her ankles, and her arms were covered in long white gloves. There was a chair placed at the bedside, which meant she had been sitting there long enough to grow tired and eventually lie herself on the bed. She may have been waiting for me to wake up so she could have gone to the ball. I'll have to make it up to her when I can.

…How she had managed to get me on the bed however was beyond me.

I slid myself out of her grip to get out of bed. Though I still felt sore by using six Gears and my head ached, I could at least use a few minor weaves. Pulling out her nightgown out of her dresser, I used a spell to change her attire and remove the jewelry. She didn't stir one bit. Next, I undid her hair, to which she mumbled something. The last thing I did was lift her up so to be able to tuck her back under the covers.

She rolled over once and tried to reach for something. Her eyes threatened to open and so I stuffed a pillow in her arms. She snuggled close to it and fell back asleep.

Now if only she could be this adorable during the day…

I spent the next few minutes examining the conditions of my protections throughout her room while adding a few things here and there. Mostly barriers to defend us should someone try to blow up the room from a distance and things like that, also a better alarm system that will awaken Louise rather than just me. I thought about putting a layer to make people ignore us should they draw their attention to Louise's room, but it wouldn't do well if someone needed to get a hold of her for academic reasons. I think I'm just being paranoid.

Satisfied enough, I pulled up the same chair as I slept on last night, rested it against the windowsill, and leaned myself back. My skin soaked in the welcoming rays of moonlight as I went back to sleep. Thankfully it was dreamless.

*Scene*

"Alright Louise," I rubbed my head as I opened each and every one of the windows. Right after breakfast (to which I was surprised to see Guiche serving without my need to fetch him), Louise and I went towards one of the unused classrooms which was used as storage. Thanks to all the hangover children due to the Sleipnir Ball, classes weren't held today. Apparently I had promised Louise yesterday that I would help her with her magic. I don't recall, but then again I can't recall anything that happened as soon as we left Osmond's office.

I had opened the windows to let in as much sunlight as possible, mostly for my sake. I had thought about reinforcing this place to resist the amount of explosions about to go off, but then Louise's anti-magic property would render them useless. So, the best I could do was pile everything into one corner and repair them should things go awry.

"First tell me, what is the textbook definition of magic according to the Brimiric faith?"

She smiled, lifted her head, and like a peacock of all things she answered proudly, "Magic is the innate ability given by the select chosen of God and the descendants of Founder Brimir to control the five elements Fire, Wind, Water, Earth, and Void by channeling willpower through a catalyst."

I nodded and stored the knowledge for later. I returned from the last window to stand a few yards in front of her. "Now, what is your definition of magic?"

Her brows came together in a way that told me she was questioning my intelligence.

"Louise," I began in a patient tone, "I asked you two different questions. I asked you what magic was according to the Brimiric faith. And now I am asking you what you think magic is. You have to realize magic isn't just limited to you and the Nobility. Did you not say there was such a thing as Firstborn Magic? And you have to acknowledge my style of magic is far different from yours. So I'll ask again; what do you personally believe magic is?"

Her face scrunched together in thought. I left her alone as I used the time to collect my thoughts and organize a suitable way to teach her. Eventually, her eyes met mine and she asked, "…What is the textbook definition of your magic?"

A good question. It was a start. Researchers of any field must first be willing to accept any possibility, no matter how abstract it may be. I was worried Louise would be stubborn and only accept her religion's magic system as the only 'true' one, leaving all others as abominations that needed to be expelled. She did call me a barbarian after all.

I shrugged, "Unfortunately, my magic hasn't been seen since the Primordial Age, a time in which the language was one and there were no written records. It was the time where the world was still so fresh there was no method of teaching magic and so the mages of that time had to create one of their own."

To give an example, I spun Spirit strings through the air while forcing more than enough energy for anyone to clearly see, Louise especially. Her eyes widened as she saw them dance around in twists and knots to make a structural pattern no amount of sewing could achieve. "To me, the world is made up of strings. Everything that which exists is made of strings. The rules in which these things function are determined by gathering together to form weaves and patterns. Let us take for example… fire."

The strings knitted together and transformed into strings of fire. But I wasn't done yet. They continued to move around at my command.

"However, fire is not such a simple element like you believe it to be. It is a gathering of several different… other commands that make it. Fire is composed of air, heat, vibrations, oxidation, combustion… and let's not get into the other patterns required for the world to acknowledge its existence. And to mold this Dot-class element into the most common of spells, the fireball…"

The fire gathered into my hand and formed into a large ember. It was anything but sphere shaped, but I could throw it like a ball if I wanted to. To make it into a perfect sphere would require a lot of extra work… with the easiest method turning it into plasma, which, by the way, is anything but easy.

"The fireball is composed of several other commands used to bend the prior commands that make up fire into a relative existence. Not only must the mage continue to keep the flame burning, the mage must also take into consideration the other influences that mold the flame into a ball. And then there are the matters in which the fireball's use, primarily its function to act as an explosive. Commands to keep the flame into a ball when it is outside the mage's reach, to allow it to travel through the air despite it being a gaseous form, when to explode, and much more."

I cut off the flow of energy and the fire went out. "The fireball is anything but simple."

"…No, I think you just make it overcomplicated," Louise mumbled.

I smiled. "Louise, my magic is to simply understand what makes up everything at its bare form. The fireball is everything I just said it was to be, no matter what magic system you use. You can't mean to tell me you don't know what makes your spells function, do you?"

She frowned but didn't respond.

I sighed, "Louise, there is no textbook definition of magic at all. In fact, magic isn't really magic in the first place. What you and I practice is a form of crafting. We use the resources provided by the world itself to reproduce and mimic natural phenomena. All that we do can be performed by the world, only by alternative means. We are rivaled by technology, psychokinesis, and selection.

"But in the end of it all, it's just a method of energy conversion."

Louise, however, had her brows twitching in annoyance. "What nonsense are you saying? Never mind the last two— I don't know what those are. But technology? Are you saying Commoners can perform the feats of magic through technology?! It's nothing short of heresy!"

Patiently, and I cannot stress the word enough, I replied, "Let's go back to the fireball. Can they replicate the spell down to the letter? Definitely not with the technology today, but someday. For now? I can say they may provide a suitable substitution. They can craft hollow shells, fill them with gunpowder, and stick a lit fuse while they chuck it at their targets, effectively creating a bomb. Or they can gather dung with hay, pour oil over them, ignite them, and then use a catapult to launch them over the walls of a fortress. The practice may be different, but the results will still be the same."

She gritted her teeth. "Fine! But Commoners could not create golems and have them animated," she threw in with a smug smile.

…I'm not going to try to teach her the basics of robotics.

"Louise, I'm not here to prove you or your practice wrong," I released a sigh in the end. "I'm here to help you understand how your magic works so that we may figure out what goes wrong with your casting. Do you want to keep producing explosions for the rest of your life?"

She blanched and then looked away, "N-No…"

I nodded, "I asked you these questions as a sort of introduction. Understand all magic is a method of converting energy— to turn one thing into another. Your practice says a mage is only limited to the five elements. While this isn't wrong, and I am not correcting your teachings, there are other practices out there that are just as successful. I, as well as the elves, am proof of that."

She scowled, "You're not going to have me practice heathen magic, are you?"

"Really? I could have sworn the other day you were hoping I could teach you my Archmagic."

Louise refused to look my way as she blushed.

I said nothing as I held my hand out to my side. "To start, I am going to examine how you produce your spells and see how you construct them as you cast. But I'm not going to have you use your wand. I'm going to have you use something a bit more fitting…"

Solstice materialized in my grip. Flipping it so that the hilt was extended first, I directed it for Louise to take it.

"I-I can't lift something like that!" she blurted out.

Well, I suppose she would have reacted like that. Louise was… what? Twelve? Thirteen? She had the build of a girl still developing, not to mention a Noble who in this era would find physical labor of any kind to be unworthy. I wouldn't doubt if she couldn't lift fifty pounds using every muscle in her body. And to the observer, Solstice did look a little heavy.

But Solstice was anything but a normal weapon.

Without warning, I shoved the sword towards her torso. She fumbled at first in its grip and lifted it high above her head, taking several steps back as she did put her all into lifting it before falling to the ground. The lightness of the blade came as a shock to her.

Solstice had a weight to it, for sure, but the weight will always vary from person to person. No matter what, Solstice's weight will always be shifted to 'comfortable'. To me, it was twenty pounds. To someone like Louise… it was probably an ounce.

"W-Wha…?" Louise remained a little bit in the pose of lifting Solstice above her head. Gradually, she lifted it back down until her eyes could lock on the pummel. It was a funny sight to see her wield it. Though Solstice was something of a cross between a straight sword and a rapier, it was a few feet taller than Louise. It was actually exactly as tall as I was down to the smallest measurement. If it were a normal blade, it would be around sixty to seventy pounds.

"Consider this my catalyst," I began my explanation. "The name of the blade is Solstice, the First and Last Sun. It is a blade that records, analyzes, adapts, evolves, and reacts according to whatever it confronts. It is my most trusted partner and the sister of Equinox, the Midnight Sun, the brother, my sheath. As Solstice will channel and correct your casting, I will be having Equinox give me the solution so you may replicate it on your own."

She nodded. Though I couldn't tell if she heard my words as she was too busy playing with the weightlessness of a large weapon, swinging it around as though she were a knight.

I shrugged but let her have her fun for the moment. I pulled up a chair and placed it in the center of the room. "Now, I want you to cast a spell on this chair. Anything will do, but please let me know what you are casting beforehand."

Ceasing her playing, her brows knitted together in focus. With both hands gripping the hilt, she pointed the tip of Solstice towards the chair. Normally the narrow length would give anyone trouble trying to point it with accuracy, but Solstice was already correcting her flaws and guiding her arms at her intended target without her noticing.

"I'm going to make it levitate," she said with determination mixed in with high hopes.

I nodded and gestured for her to begin. My vision shifted into the String World so I could see how she was casting.

With a deep breath, she waved Solstice in the appropriate manner one would with a wand. Then with a flick, the tip expertly landed at the direction of the chair. "Levitation!"

I couldn't help but cock a brow. Some mages do require certain mental triggers to activate their magic such as a snap of their fingers or shouting the names of their spells. I, for example, need to shout the number and order of Gears I am winding as a means to activate them. In most cases though, they're a form of self-hypnosis as a means to grant easier access to their abilities, like pulling the trigger of a gun to fire. However, from what I had just seen, the spells of these people needed the name as the final seal as much as they needed the incantation.

What a spoiled system… to need the cherry on top. I mean, really?!

I watched as the weaves came together at the tip of Solstice, being fueled by Louise's willpower, and activated the command initiated in the spell. The weaves latched onto the chair and began to rattle at first. Louise's eyes widened in disbelief and wonder until they narrowed in refined determination. She gripped Solstice a little tighter and put more effort, by putting more willpower into her spell.

My eyes narrowed as they examined Solstice.

Regardless, the chair rattled around more until it was lifted up into the air by inches. Louise gasped and took a step back, nearly dropping Solstice from shock. From losing her concentration, the chair dropped and fell on its side.

Louise was shaking; her eyes wide and locked intensely on the fallen chair. "I… I did it…"

The shock quickly dispersed as now absolute bliss erupted through her. She jumped around everywhere ecstatically. "I did it! I casted magic! It didn't blow up! I PERFORMED MAGIC!"

At my command, Solstice appeared in my grip. Though the blade would never harm its wielder (unless I wanted it to), that didn't mean it couldn't break things in its swing. Louise was too happy at the moment to realize it was out of her grip anyways. She was too busy boasting in self-glory and giving some monologue to herself about proving 'that Germanium harlot' wrong and no longer being a Zero.

In the meantime, Equinox appeared on my back. Without hesitation, I slid Solstice into the side slot. Due to the extreme length of Solstice, Equinox was just as ridiculously long. Thus, my blade couldn't be inserted from the top like a normal sheath; it had to slide in through a slot at its side.

Immediately, Equinox began to copy all of the information Solstice has just recorded from Louise and install it into me. Unlike the experience from my Djinn which invades my mind, Equinox adjusts the influence of the information to naturally fit into my being while making adjustments to myself in order to accept everything without penalties.

In other words, I had just become a Void mage of the Brimiric faith… who can only cast the Levitation spell. But still.

Impossible, you say? Well, just as Sorcery directly defies the direct world, Solstice and Equinox are products of Phenomenon— that which directly defies the indirect world, mostly through technology; in this case, through their existence as mystic instruments. Their function was to achieve Evolution— that which indirectly defies the indirect world, by changing the properties that make up a subject to fit with the rules of the world.

In simpler terms, Solstice and Equinox grant me the same abilities as those they confront without penalties or prior requirements. Among other things.

My mind raced as I worked on the formula for Louise's spell. In my head I could trace the patterns, could see the flaws in their design, and could have altered them to have them more efficient. However the spell itself wasn't the problem. The problem lied with Louise herself. As I had noticed when she was using Solstice, the problem wasn't in her performance. Even with such a faulty and inefficient spell like this one she should have been able to lift the chair off the ground.

It also had nothing to do with her anti-magic affinity.

From what I understand, willpower is an internal energy created by a mage's neural system. It wasn't that far off from an Acolyte's Aura— an energy that was produced by the body's biorhythm which can burn brighter (and faster) through adrenaline. But willpower was almost exactly like what the magicians of this world believed it to be: willpower! It was far more dependent on the neurons that controlled a person's emotions rather than their bodies. Although different emotions produce various effects, the more dominant or… 'flaring', for lack of a better word, the emotion is then the more willpower is produced.

This energy cannot leave the body through natural means. I suppose that would explain the need for a catalyst, and it would also explain why a master of the craft could perform wandless magic but to a lesser degree. However, I fail to see why someone would need to be a descendent of Brimir to be able to perform this type of magic. In theory, anyone should be able to do this. But it could be something different within the spinal cortex. Unless I break someone open and dissect them I won't be able to find out the difference between a Noble and a Commoner.

It also works like stamina. When too much is willpower is spent, the body tries to replenish the energy spent on the neurons and extracts nutrients from everywhere it can. It was a worrisome trait as it can lead to severe brain complications. And I bet these primitive people think they'll get better after getting some food or sleep.

Now, the problem with Louise wasn't her lack of willpower or her body's attunement towards the anti-magic concept Void. Because she was so young and had such a sharp mind, her supply of willpower was impressive. Her body was also perfectly wired to channel her magic without flaws. The problem was her. Her emotions, thoughts, ideas, morals, memories— all that which make up her soul is at conflict with herself. Because of this, her neurons are producing chemical reactions within her brain that causes stress, forces her body to be burdened with anxiety, and unconsciously defends itself against the task that is harming it: her crafting of magic.

To sum it up, because Louise is in a constant state of stress, her body is trying to protect her from what it's naturally trying to perform at the same time. It's contradicting with itself, pushing and pulling in an endless struggle with neither sides giving in. And when Louise tries to put more effort into her casting, her body tries harder to go against it. The two forces collide, push harder, and then something breaks.

So of course the only natural reaction would be to have something blown up in her face.

Teenagers!

…Maybe I should teach Louise more efficient magic.

Dismissing Solstice and Equinox, I interrupted Louise's little maniacal laughter, "I found the source of your problems, Louise."

"And Montmorency the Flood shall lick my boots as I… wait, what?" she swiveled her head around at my words, changing her emotions in a blink of an eye.

…I'm going to pretend I didn't hear her plans to enslave everyone at the academy.

"However… I'm going to need a day to come up with a solution."

"Huh?!" Like the child she was, she stomped her feet and demanded my attention. "What do you mean a day?! I can finally perform magic! All I need is your sword! I knew the problem couldn't be me. There mustn't have been a catalyst strong enough for me."

"…Yes, because all you Nobles are perfect, Louise." I couldn't hold back the sarcasm. "But unfortunately my sword is mine and I don't have the resources or tools to produce something even a tenth of its potential. You're going to have to learn to cast by your own merits. But until we fix this problem and you learn control…"

I summoned Solstice once more and placed it in her hands. With a pat to her head, I walked towards the door. "…Have fun. I've placed a restriction on it so you don't overburden yourself. It's also set to block your magic once you either grow too tired, try to cast something destructive, or it's time for dinner. But until then, play to your heart's content."

What I left out was Solstice was going to fiddle with her insides while she was casting. The longer she kept a grip on it, the better it'll work out her flaws. For someone like Louise, who was just given a drink of water in a vast desert, she was going to covet this for as long as possible. Hopefully by the evening Louise's personality will have some major improvements.

But Solstice was only going to fix her impurities; a sort of untying of knots, so to speak. She could be a better person in the end… or she could be twice as bratty. We'll have to wait and see.

I left her to her own amusement. I was hungry myself and thought a light meal would help. Helping out with the staff could also unwind myself as I thought of a better solution for Louise. I can't lend her Solstice forever.

*Scene*

"Your Majesty, you humble me with your compliments," Marteau the head chef puffed his chest out like a proud peacock. Unlike a certain pink-haired Noble, he pulled it off.

"Please Martin," I raised a hand to put him at ease. I still can't pronounce his name accurately and resorted to calling him Martin. Whether that is the English version of his name… I've no clue. But he hasn't shown any signs of insult and hasn't corrected me. But then again, I'm treated like a Noble around the staff, albeit to a much more honest degree.

But there was still that annoying wall this society had built.

"Call me Artemis. Yes, I am a King, but I am not yours. Here I am just another person in a foreign land. You and I stand on fair grounds. In fact, I'd have to say that you stand higher than I do. I've no power here while you are the man in charge of a kitchen within a prestigious academy. I am the one at your mercy and you give me free food. Whether they are leftovers or not, you have absolute say if I can have them."

Marteau snorted in embarrassment as he tried to hide his blush. Meanwhile, I went back to finishing my soup and bread. Around us, the staff were scurrying around to prepare for dinner some six hours or so from now. Pots, pans, and utensils were being cleaned from lunch to be used again for dinner while ovens were being heated with timber or coal. Fresh chickens were being chopped, plucked, gutted, and then seasoned and stuffed. Other tasks were taking place but I couldn't tell what for due to the running amok. But there was some sort of system in use seeing as no accidents have happened. They also gave me enough space to eat peacefully while I chatted with Marteau.

"You look down, Your Majesty," Marteau gave me a very observant eye. He might not be… educated like the Nobles, but the man had more wisdom and common sense than every professor I have met so far. "The local Nobles giving you more trouble?"

I gave him a friendly smile as I dipped my bread in the soup. "No more than usual. I was recently asked to capture Foquet the thief by the headmaster. However, my summoner and her… classmates made things a bit more difficult during the mission. But I can't fully blame them. I've a feeling we wouldn't have been able to capture Foquet no matter what with the way her unknown partner helped her escape."

"Hmm…" Marteau crossed his arms as he nodded sagely about something I couldn't follow. I could only guess it had something to do with his strong dislike for the Nobles. "But that doesn't sound like the crux of things to me. I've seen that look before, Sire. Now it's not my place to pry, but I'd have to say that's the look of one who's homesick."

I was astonished. The man was sharper than I thought. My smile grew a little. "That's because I am. Might I trouble you further for an ear?"

The man nodded and took a seat at the other corner of the counter. He could have taken the stool beside me but the social wall between us wouldn't be crossed. Oh well.

"I always worry for the city I rule over, but there is one place that has my heart more than the kingdom and its… subjects. The bond I have with it is so strong that it hurts whenever I think about it; so much so I cannot bring back the memories by my own will. But, when under enough stress, those memories will resurface. I've had a dream of my birthplace last night. And until those memories are buried once more… I'd have to say I will be a bit homesick for some time."

Marteau nodded once, not saying a word. His eyes shone with understanding.

"I didn't grow up in a lavish castle with the finest of furnishings, clothes, foods, and other pleasantries. I grew up in a farming town in the middle of nowhere as a regular person. I'd rather not get into it, but my parents left us alone. I had to take care of someone special by myself. I had to work to provide for the both of us while trying to finish my education. Many times we were threatened with separation, but it only molded me into a more responsible brother. No matter how tiresome and hopeless it was, those days will always be my happiest memories. I miss everything about it."

I ended any further telling by finishing my soup. I really didn't want to share any more information. I didn't tell him anything else about me, but I left enough hints in my rambling for him to paint a picture. I don't think I have it in me to say Terah's name aloud. It took me this long just to be able to think about her without shedding tears.

Marteau accepted my words regardless. In quick movements, he got up and snagged a wine bottle with two glasses before sitting back down.

"Thank you Martin," I interrupted him. "But I'm still too young to drink. I've another year left."

This time, Marteau shook his head, "If a lad like you is old enough to draw blood, then you're old enough to have a drink."

…Very sharp indeed.

But as he was pouring the glasses, he did ask, "Why is your law for drinking so… restrictive? For us Commoners, ours is the age of fourteen. Well, I say that even though it applies to the Nobles as well. But they think it doesn't and no one tries to correct them."

Of course they don't.

I shrugged, "The more time someone has to mature in age, the less likely they are to make stupid choices when under the influence." Although the laws are whatever I say back in Ilyvander, I still applied most American laws into how I rule. Not that a Jinni can get drunk in the first place. Again, they can imitate the behavior like a program, but never really get drunk.

Marteau raised his glass and toasted, "Not sure if your little summoner done this for you or not, but allow me at least to welcome you to Tristain, Your Majesty. May your stay here be in good fortune and… um… welcoming. Hmph, I'm no good with this."

I raised my glass and gave him a thankful smile. I was still appreciative about his toast. It was the most welcoming gesture I've received thus far. It beats getting yelled at or getting an anti-magic brick to the face any day.

The wine was smooth and sweet. Damn, these Noble brats have it made.

"Thank you, Martin," I placed the glass down after finishing it. I'm not ashamed to admit that it took me a few sips. Alcohol was a unique experience for me. "I think I've taken enough of your time. But I do find myself full of it. Please, let me help around here. What do you need me to do?"

Normally Marteau would reject my offer and spew something about kitchen duties being unworthy of my stature (but perfectly fine for Guiche), but he had a change of mind. Most likely due to our little moment with another. "You're more than welcome to help us with dinner, Your Majesty… Well, that does sound strange to say to a king. We're understaffed more than usual thanks to that Royal Messenger."

I would have let it go if he didn't spit out the title with more toxicity than he did for any other Noble. I could feel his words melt my ears like acid.

"…What did he do?" I dared to ask.

Marteau's cheerful personality shifted without hesitation to one of supreme disgust. "He bought the contracts of some of our finest maids. Claudia, Natalia, and Siesta went to go work for him now as servants in his manor. You haven't been around lately. That was back on the Day of the Void."

Not only did he speak with such hatred it felt like I was in front of a furnace, he also expressed hopelessness as though those three were a helpless cause.

No good could ever come out from such a reaction.

I leaned forward, "Martin, tell me everything about this Royal Messenger."

*Scene*

One thing after another in this world… Each new day teaches me how horrendous this world is as well as its people. Earth was no different during its Renaissance and Feudal periods. But throw in magic, in which is given to 'God's chosen', and there is a new height of superiority and smugness that rival the gods'.

Each new day here made me more and more pissed off.

Count Mott of Tristania was the head of a twelve-generation old family and current Royal Messenger to the Crown. He answered directly to the Royal Family but was tasked with organizing and delivering reports to the House of Lords, the Chief of Justice, the Royal Treasurer, and several other Nobles, lesser government officials, and other government facilities.

Such as the Tristain Academy of Magic.

Without a doubt, thanks to his position, the man had outstanding political power. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was the bridge that connected every government branch. And one doesn't cross it without his authority. He had information about everything that happens within Tristain, both public and dark, and had the ability to manipulate everything in his favor. Hell, he answered directly to the rulers of this shitty kingdom. That right there gave him more influence than anyone around.

So, if he took fancy to a few nice looking maids belonging to the academy, all he needed was a word and they would be his. With or without their consent. He could have just ordered them to follow him, but he had the decency to buy them.

What pissed me off the most was this wasn't the first time he's done this.

I had shared a few words with Osmond as soon as Marteau told me what I needed. Osmond was able to confirm everything as well as my suspicions; the man couldn't say no to Mott and had no choice but to release their contracts to him. Likewise, the girls couldn't say no either.

But what Osmond had 'slipped' was the most recent delivery from the count. He 'dropped' a letter as well as a large stack of bank notes. When I read the letter, I was overtaken by a vision of red I nearly stormed out of the office to go hunt this Noble personally. But I had to calm down and look it over again.

The letter was meant for Osmond only. It requested all documents relating to Siesta of Tarbes be destroyed immediately. He was also paid in a hefty sum for his silence.

…It was highly likely Siesta was dead and the count was trying to cover his tracks.

So here I stood in front of the academy entrance. I knew the location of Mott's villa thanks to Osmond— the old man was trying to have me deal with Mott without having to take the blame, which I was tempted to go along with. But I was conflicted.

If the Storm King kidnapped any of my girls or friends— except Lolifor; the pedophile would be on his own— I would go charging in at full might with Solstice, Equinox, Godking model Djinn armor, and reinforced with all styles of magic with all ten of my Gears active. But that's because I am a King and have top authority over everything I watch.

Here, I am nobody. I have no authority. I am a guest to these lands, an enigma to these people but a guest nonetheless. There is no such thing as saving a few damsels in distress from some evil pig. This is the real world and there are consequences. If I were to pull this off back on Earth, ignoring the fact if I would use magic or not, there are a large number of prosecutions I'd suffer. Here, due to the backwater methods I've seen thus far, I've no doubt the punishments would be much more severe.

Eventually they'd track me back to the Academy of Magic. Familiar or not, Louise is the one who brought me to this world and thus I would be under her responsibility. The blame would be directed to her. No matter how influential her family may be, even if it was second to the Royal Family, there won't be any excuses for being linked to the murder of a direct servant of the Crown.

What was it Sir Rolan said? Heroes may kill dragons, but the politician can kill the hero.

"Darling?"

The sound of Kirche's voice brought me out of my thoughts. She approached me with her usual alluring smile, but it gradually died down when looking at the expression on my face. It turned into one of concern. "What's the matter? Did you and Louise get into another fight?"

"No, just…" I sighed, debating whether I should tell her or not. But then I remembered my promise— dammit all— and decided I should start with building a form of trust. "My friends were taken against their will and one of them might be dead. I'm standing here thinking what I can do about it…"

Her brows rose. "Would this have anything to do with the Royal Messenger and the help?"

I nodded while turning my gaze back towards the road. It didn't surprise me that she could guess what it was.

She was quiet as she let me ponder to myself for some time. Eventually, she drew closer and spoke slowly, "Do you… fancy one of those maids, by chance?"

I'd prefer to not think of the hidden meaning behind her question. Kirche doesn't strike me as the jealous type so I don't know why she was acting this way. "They were all kind to me. They gave me food and company when no one else would. I mean no disrespect to you, Kirche, but the kind of company you offered isn't the kind I prefer. There's nothing wrong with a little passion, but I'm the type to want something more… long-term. They simply gave me their friendship; and that's all I want."

Which is why I am so conflicted on what to do. I need to follow the path that will lead me with no regrets, but that was a little difficult to do at the moment. Who was to say after I 'save' them the law wouldn't go after them as well? As Commoners, they had no say in anything. Their fates depended on a whim.

"…Then how about we make a deal?"

My eyes went back to Kirche, narrowing in both suspicion and curiosity. I wouldn't doubt these Nobles would use some bargaining means to get what they want, even in a situation like this. I was also curious because I couldn't think of anything Kirche, a foreigner like me, could possibly do that I couldn't.

"I have something the count has coveted from my family for many years," she began with a small smirk. "A magic grimoir said to entice the loins of any man when gazing upon it. My family gave it to me as a means to ensnare a husband, but it's not like I need some silly trinket like that, don't you think?"

She winked. I could have sworn I saw a star sparkle between her lids. I wasn't just getting annoyed with her using the situation for her personal gain— that I can tolerate. I was annoyed because she was so chipper about it.

"…And what is it that you want for it?" I could already see where this was going.

"You haven't held up your end of the bargain," she began with a huff. "And I went through all that trouble of finding you a talking sword. But I understand seeing as you're the Zero's familiar and with everything going on lately. So I'll excuse it. If I give you the grimoir, I want you to spend the whole day with me." She smiled and added sultry, "And the evening. I want to see what those fingers of yours can weave."

"But is this something worth enough to return their contracts?" I asked.

She answered without hesitation and proudly, "King Philips, I assure you this is of worth to have your own harem. Perhaps even arrange the marriage of a middle ranking Noble daughter. But given the seriousness of the situation, I would try to bargain for the contracts of at least five girls. With your charm you should be able to save at least that many. If you have any charisma, or perhaps some persuasive magic, you might be able to steal a lot more. Maybe even find out if that friend of yours is still alive."

Never underestimate the wiles of a lady who knows her way around the sheets. She can rip out the heart of men and read them like a book.

…I'd hate to find out what would happen if she were to chat with Coquette.

"Alright, Kirche," I nodded. "If you can bring me this grimoir, I will do anything you want for a full twenty-four hours. Come back and meet me within the hour. I'll need to have a word with the headmaster before leaving."

I might regret it later, but I think a full day of humiliation is worth saving a few girls.

*Scene*

I… don't know what to say about this world anymore. When Kirche handed me the grimoir, I hadn't been able to detect any traces of magic within its fibers. It felt like ordinary printing paper, which didn't make sense because only the Nobility knew how to read so there wouldn't be a point in inventing the printing press. Plus all the books I've seen so far are made out of quality paper, not this cheap thin kind.

Bracing myself for a potential mystic boner that will be a chore to get rid of, I switched my perspective to the String World and opened the book.

Seconds later, when my mind rebooted, I shut it.

And gave out a loud groan of… well, a lot of feelings.

The so-called grimoir was a 1972 Playboy. Swimsuit edition! Never mind how in the hell something like this was doing here in Halkegenia, I couldn't possibly imagine in what way this was considered a magic grimoir. Able to entice the loins of men? I think a pair of panties can do just as decent of a job, twice so if you wove a story about how they belonged to a princess or some other bullshit.

If this is was my bargaining chick… I'd be lucky to be able to walk away from this without persecution.

"You're not going to present yourself as a king?" Kirche, meanwhile, was flabbergasted by my strategy.

As she drove Mercedes, I was sitting on the back of the same cart we used to go after Foquet. It would have been faster if we each rode a horse. But that's assuming I could ride a horse normally. If it's me we're talking about, then it would take several times longer than our current method.

"Kings are all about presentation," I elaborated beside her. "Something which I lack at the moment. I do not have the vehicles used to cross endless storms and barren wastelands in a matter of minutes, I'd rather not craft new Djinn Sentinels unless absolutely necessary, my armor is only meant for combat and not formatted for decorum, and I don't have the time to craft fine clothing. I am dressed as a wealthy Commoner and so I will play the part of one.

"Presenting myself as a King will also lead to many complications. Where did I come from? What am I doing here? How long have I been here? What are the intentions of me being here?

"I am going to pretend to be a Germanium Alchemist traveling the world in search of materials. I lack the documents to prove any of this and it's likely I could be executed by meeting this Royal Messenger. That's where you come in."

Kirche's eyes widened as she followed my logic, "I see! I'm to be your escort during your temporary stay? Better yet, I will say you are the Alchemist of the Zerbst family. It would make sense if you show up with an heirloom belonging to the Zerbst family."

I nodded but thought further, "However, that won't explain my need for the girls with the list Osmond gave me. I also have to find a way to squeeze in the mentioning of a few girls who have gone missing under the count's services. It would become… complicated if I requested they be contracted to the services of a Germanium family."

My eyes narrowed with rage. "I'm going to have to speak this man's tongue…"

"His tongue…?" Kirche tilted her head. She blinked, "Surely… you don't mean…?"

I didn't answer. I took in a few deep breathes of air and tried to clear my thoughts. I needed to be as focused on my strategy as possible. Any mistake wouldn't just leave the girls in the count's possession, but it was a possibility Kirche and I could fall under legal persecution. As a Germanium with legal representation, Kirche could be exported from the country to return to her family. I, however, was something of an illegal immigrant and I could be facing the death penalty.

I could escape from these mages with no harm onto myself. But if I were to do that, then investigations will lead back to the academy.

*Scene*

The count was the spitting image of hypocrisy. He sat in a large velvet chair near the fireplace with a tall glass of wine in a crystalline glass. He was dressed in the most elaborate and stylish Renaissance-themed clothes, his hair was parted to the side, and his mustache and side-chops were trimmed to perfection. Though his posture was the pinnacle of elegance, and his smile the definition of charming, his eyes spoke stories of a serpent hiding in a garden of fruit.

It didn't help that he was being tended to by a small flock of maids in skimpy clothing.

I find the word pig no longer a fitting word for this man. He was a leach. A sort of bloodsucking parasite who gradually ate away at the life of others for his own needs. I could have sworn this man was a puppeteer mage with the way the maids were moving. The light within them had been burned out and now their bodies moved with only the will to survive. Their eyes were hollow, crushed, broken— all manner of personality was extracted from them, repeatedly, until there was nothing left.

But there was still that glimmer of hope within a few. My eyes matched Natalia's and Claudia's as theirs shone for the briefest moment with said hope. They had life in them still, but it was quickly put out in a blink as they went back to their duties. They saw me as their savior for one moment but removed it as they figured there was nothing I could do for them.

It was, sadly and pathetically, the only shred of emotion I could see from any of the girls.

The guards escorted us to the appropriate meeting room where Count Mott had been informed of our arrival. Getting an audience with him wasn't an easy task. One doesn't just 'show up' and demand a meeting with the infamous Royal Messenger without prior notice. It was thanks to Kirche's family name as well as the mentioning of the 'grimoir' that we were able to see him.

"Good evening, Count of Tristania," I gave him a large grin and an elegant, if not over-exaggerated bow. I even threw a little flare into my accent. "I am Philips of Ilyvander, but a humble Alchemist on a journey through this… Halkegenia land. My journey has taken me to this country of Tristain and my ears have told me you've acquired a few things of interest."

Kirche didn't present herself. She stood behind me with the grimoir tucked in her arms.

Count Mott's eyes moved towards Kirche for a moment and then widened a fracture when spotting the leather casing. It could have been easily missed as he did exceptionally well to mask his emotions. His attention went back to me, "Ilyvander, was it? I've never heard of it. Tell me, what district of Germania is that?"

I took a few steps forward but kept my distance. I was to be friendly with the count, but not casual. This was a business transaction and needed tact of professionalism. "I am afraid you are mistaken, Count. But 'tis a mistake on my part. I hail from the kingdom of Ilyvander far beyond what your people call the Rub'al Khali desert. It just so happens I visited Germania before coming to Tristain. It is also why I was able to obtain such a noteworthy article."

"A desert barbarian?" he mused, chuckling quietly to himself and completely unfazed that he had insulted me. "I will hear your proposition and see if we can come to an agreement. Come, take a seat." He gestured for the velvet chair across of him while snapping a finger.

When I sat, a hollow maid handed me a glass of wine, bowed, and walked away. I had to force myself to treat her like unimportant furniture else the façade would be broken. I wanted to desperately wrap her in a blanket and tell her sweet nothings of comfort. But I had to push the emotions away.

"I must first compliment you on your tastes, Count of Tristania," I said with a sickening smile equaling his. My eyes moved across the room, through the row of girls at attention to serve without directly examining any of them. I returned my looks back to the count. "Oh I knew I would find something marvelous in this country. Lo and behold I am sitting before a fine man with just as wondrous appreciations."

The count said nothing, observing me through his charming mask, hiding his true intentions behind his own façade.

I raised the glass towards my side and immediately a maid had placed a tray under it before I let go. "You and I are two of a kind. We are collectors of art. One look at you and I can tell there is no one else who can understand or appreciate the splendor of the woman body like we do. I came to Halkegenia when I simply grew bored of the desert flowers of my home. Surely thus far you can figure what my intentions are today?"

The count stared at me for some time, judging me. Were I a few years younger I would have crumbled by his serpentine gaze. But after meeting the arrogance of the Storm King, the predacious glint of Sir Rolan, and the sheer madness of Fourth Predator the Vampire, there wasn't anything within human existence that could top them. It was full of greed. His eyes were telling me that by me being here I was threatening that which he fought hard to achieve.

But then he gave a controlled laugher as he swished his wine around. "Fortunately for you, good sir, I happen to manage the trading of our art."

I let my brow arch. It could have been misread as interest, but it was really out of surprise. Not because this was something I didn't expect, but because it could have meant there was a chance Siesta as well as those other girls could still be alive. If so, I might be able to track them down.

"Wonderful!" I cheered and clapped my hands once. "Now I am one who has done his homework before coming here. So it so happens I've acquired a list of individuals I could not gather for my collection. I don't know how you've done it, Count of Tristania, but the old fool from the academy is most stubborn."

I pulled out the parchment Osmond and I went over and handed it for a maid, who quickly handed it to Count Mott. They were a general list of girls who the Count had purchased within the previous year as well as a few others he had taken throughout all of Tristain. Osmond's resources knew no bounds as he had been able to keep track of Mott's movements well. He mentioned he had information on other Nobles and government officials but refused to elaborate further.

It was possible he was just so big of a pervert that he kept track of what girls were being trafficked in hopes he could purchase them from the count.

The count flicked the paper after going through the list, "This is quite the demand, Philips, was it? You don't believe the Summoned Book of Zerbst is worth this amount of quality, do you?"

Quality, not quantity.

I gave my own laughter of amusement as I waved a finger, "Count of Tristania, you underestimate the potency of this mystic artefact. No man shall ever need another woman so long as they have this."

He huffed, "If what you say is true, then what need do you have to offer a trade?"

I kept my smile, "I do not need women, Count of Tristania. I want them. But… I do wonder… Are you asking because you cannot provide what I am asking?"

His brow twitched slightly. What he tried to use to ensnare me into a trap had been backfired. The both of us were trying to lower the price of each other's side to have the biggest gain. It was the most common method in business. I'll have to thank Lolifor for using his disgusting wordplay all these years.

Count Mott returned to the list, "Unfortunately, I have many clients with the same interest as you. Many of the articles you are requesting are no longer in my possession. Nor can I provide you with any information on who purchased them due to client confidentiality. You must understand this is for protection against potential prosecution, yes?"

I clicked my tongue to show disappointment as well as hiding my rising rage. "Such a shame. Then do tell me, exactly how many of those on my list are available?"

He didn't answer but instead asked, "Let us say that half their contracts are available for purchase. Yet you only have one book. Do you expect me to hand over half of your desired amount for one grimoir?"

My smile thinned, "A grimoir filled with one-hundred and twenty pages filled with magic beauties. If you feel so unsatisfied with the value, then I believe it is only fair to grant you a demonstration of its power. Kirche, the book if you please?"

Without hesitation, as though she were expecting this, Kirche crossed the room and handed the book to my awaiting hands. But instead of me getting up to personally give it to the count, I pulled out my pen from my pants pocket and began to pretend it to be my wand like I did with the tailor suit.

I opened the book to show the count, but the pages were blank. I had used an illusion weave to hide the color of the pages. "As you can see, I have sealed the magic so no one but myself may read from it. But one moment as I unlock it."

The count watched with a curios brow as he sipped his wine.

I wove two things into the book. The first was the most obvious; it was a weave to turn the leather covering into golden fibers while removing the illusion I created. Its use was to look pretty and to fool everyone around here that this was indeed a magic item. It was also a distraction from anyone speculating the second weave.

With Carnage magic, I installed a perception of humanity into its fibers. So long as someone was looking into the pages, that perception would reach into their mind and activate a certain emotion to its highest potential. It was a curse I wouldn't wish upon on any of my enemies. But on a man like this? I think I can still sleep soundly at night.

Lust. I installed into the book.

The count's eyes widened as the Carnage curse was working.

I counted to ten before shutting the Playboy. The count blinked back into existence as the curse ceased to invade his mind. A light bead of sweat pressed his brow.

"Do you still doubt its wonders, Count of Tristania?" I leaned forward.

I had him. His façade had fallen as his brows came together in frustration. His eyes flickered between mine and the book. He know the value of this book and I knew that he knew. The scales were no longer balanced and at this point I could make any demand I wanted. Hell, with the power of the Carnage curse I could have him give me the deed to all of his property.

But I didn't because someone would grow suspicious. People talk. If the maids who were standing in the background wouldn't, then Mott's guards standing at the doorway would. I needed to make this look as normal as a transaction as possible.

"Now… about that list?"

*Scene*

I was now the holder of the contracts of employment for twenty-four maids. The count had, begrudgingly, agreed to the terms of my offer. Unfortunately, no matter what words I could use, I was unable to get the information from those who purchased the other nineteen contracts. I couldn't even learn if Siesta was still alive.

I can't say I rescued anyone. All I did was lessen the damage and stop more from happening. They would have been purchased by some other sleezeball in the future and repeated the harassment until they either became pregnant or bored with; which would result in being 'disposed' of like trash. The maids traveling with me back to the academy in several wagons were already broken. There wasn't much humanity left inside them as they moved almost mechanically.

To them, I was just their new master and followed me without questions or hesitation. Even Natalia and Claudia were much the same. Though, Natalia gave me a look as though I had betrayed her while Claudia stared at me with mild confusion.

"A job well done, wouldn't you say?" asked Kirche as she drove one of the horses the count let us borrow for transportation.

"You mean escaping with our lives still intact?" I retorted while trying to stop the bile from shooting out of my throat. I felt absolutely sick. "We survived for now, Kirche. But men like him are greedy and conceited; eventually the curse I placed on that book will die down and he will be confusing it with boredom. He'll be coming for us eventually. But until then, I need to think of a plan to protect us while trying to find out what became of the other girls."

"If you had used the charms you did to capture my heart, then this wouldn't be a problem," Kirche retorted in her own way while taking the opportunity to wrap her arms around mine.

"…I can't just kick open his door and kill him," I groaned. "I'm still waiting for the repercussions from my duel against Guiche. Guiche comes from a low-ranking family who only has strong ties to the military due to the genius of his father, the Marshal. But the role of Marshal is only important during times of war. He has little to no political power and can't just march troops against me without justifiable cause. I believe my ties to Louise are the only thing keeping me from being arrested. But eventually she will have to answer for me if I'm registered as her familiar.

"Our opponent this evening was a servant to the Crown of Tristain, the Royal Messenger. He, indirectly, has just as much power as the Royal Family. With a few words and maybe a few favors, he can have any task performed discreetly. And by having a different government body doing tasks for him, then those offices would be the one to get in trouble should they get caught. This is a politician who is just as untouchable as any hero from legend."

Kirche was silent as she thought over my words. I was amazed by her. Despite her… personality, within those eyes shone someone of keen intelligence and cunning. She was able to follow my thoughts, adapted to my strategy, and was no doubt thinking of possibilities right now.

…Sometimes even I'm fooled by her charms. Wasn't it I who said yesterday perverts were the most wile of characters? That they shouldn't be treated like fools? Kirche could give Lolifor a run for his money.

Wait. Didn't I call her a reverse Lolifor before…?

"I'll think of something," I said more to myself than her.

"If it does turn out bad," she purred and squeezed my arm a little harder, "you can run away with me to my home. Someone like you can gain Nobility without a problem. In fact, since Germania is ruled by its Senate of Knights unlike Tristain, it's possible for you to rise in ranks. You could even become emperor with your power."

"I thought your system was much like Rome's," I nodded dryly. I added quickly before she asked, "It's an old empire back where I come from."

She nodded and kept quiet for the rest of the ride back to the academy. I needed to figure out what I was going to do from here on out.

*Scene*

Osmond had been willing to rehire the girls once I met with him. The academy coffers could afford the amount of help, in fact welcomed it. He mentioned he wouldn't have to look for new employees who would potentially be stolen from the count once again and they had been understaffed for quite some time. Other than a few questions asking how I had done it, he didn't say anything else. But he understood there would be hell to pay one day. He assured me he would do the best he can to make sure none of this got linked to the academy or to Louise.

And I had done all of this before dinner. I bet Louise didn't even notice I was gone.

"Why are you doing all this?" I asked the old man before leaving his office. "What is there for you to gain in all this? If things go south, you'll be in just as much trouble. Let's not forget we still have Foquet to deal about or that Louise is a Void mage."

For the hundredth time, Osmond stroked his beard. "Let's just say I have something personal against Mott. I cannot tolerate what he has done but must do so to keep my position. I do not expect you to understand so I won't elaborate any further. Let us just agree I am doing it for those girls and leave it at that."

I tilted my head and thought to myself. If I replaced Osmond with Lolifor, what would the little pedophile do differently? And then as I thought about it, if Lolifor was in the same place, he would try to keep track of Mott's movements much as Osmond had. He would also try to find a weakness in the man so he could strike at the best moment. Lolifor would try to ruin him politically to where the Mott family would be forgotten in history.

But then, from what I had gathered, Mott had been in the business of trading women like cattle for quite some time and had yet to get caught in any legal affairs. What he was doing was legal, but not moral. Legally, he was handing over employment contracts to other lords and wealthy individuals and receiving compensation as a 'gift'. It meant Mott was just as crafty and I'm sure someone like Lolifor would have a difficult time with him.

So, I should apologize to Osmond. But because of my pride, and because I simply didn't like and trust him, I won't be.

"Is there any way you can track the location of the girls I couldn't retrieve?"

Osmond lit a wooden pipe with a match instead of his magic. He puffed a few times as he thought with his eyes closed. "It will be difficult, but not impossible. Understand, young man, there is a high possibility those girls could all be dead. Do you realize this?"

"…I've considered that since you showed— since I found the letter you dropped," I sighed before leaving.

It was almost dinner time, but I wasn't anywhere near hungry. There was a pit in my chest and any sort of food would just be rejected. I could go find Kirche and ask for her opinion, but I don't want to trouble her anymore and I doubt she would have any advice to give. We were both tired from this and it wouldn't do either of us any good to exhaust ourselves further. I thought about finding Guiche, but crushed the idea seeing as he'll annoy me more than help. I might even kick him down the stairs a few times.

The idea of talking to Louise didn't come to mind at all. She'd just yell at me anyways.

Well, I can't worry about it any further at this point. I will have to wait and see what will happen during the dawn. I also have twenty-four girls to rehabilitate. It wasn't my responsibility, but I felt like it was seeing as I was the one to bring them back to the academy. It's not like I could have released them into the wild as if they were a flock of birds or something. Hopefully, I can find an efficient means of helping all of them. I've also no doubt the other members of the staff will as well.

I headed straight for the kitchens. I had offered Marteau help in preparing dinner and had run out on him as soon as he told me about Count Mott. Though excusable, I had offered anyways. Maybe I couldn't do much in the kitchens, but I'm sure they'll allow me to serve or clean some of the pots. I felt like I needed to do something productive or else I'll go crazy.

Artemis, this is you talking. You already are.

Shut up. I know.

Heading into the kitchens, I couldn't find Marteau in his usual post. But I did see many of the new girls already working hard. Thankfully, they were changed from Mott's revealing French maid attire and into the academy's more modest maid uniform. I couldn't help but frown from their expressionless faces. I watched as they properly bowed when given orders and carried them out in fluid and efficient movements.

They weren't so much as 'trained' as they were programmed. God damn. Even my Djinn have more personality than these girls.

I massaged my temple. The damage done to them was… monstrous. I don't know if I can bring them back to something that resembles human.

"King Philips?"

I blinked. Impossible. That voice…

I turned around to see who was entering the kitchens. I was standing right at the doorway so I was blocking any entry. My eyes gazed at a maid a few years younger than I was. It took my mind a minute to register what I was looking at because I wasn't so sure it was real or not.

Standing before me was Siesta of Tarbes, without any doubt.

I also didn't recognize her because she… looked different. Though there was no physical change to her whatsoever, this Siesta and the one I knew a few days ago were two different people. The Siesta I knew always kept a smile no matter what, her eyes would shine in happiness and love, and she would fumble around with her timidity because she cared so much about what others thought.

This Siesta lacked all those things. This Siesta didn't so much as lose her concept of innocence so much as it had been… ripped out of her. Her smile was gone. Her eyes looked tired. And her feet were firmly planted on the ground as though ready to attack me if I moved any closer.

N… No…

I was stuck between wanting to embrace her or give her space. Slowly, carefully, I put my hands on her arms. I felt her tense up and saw her eyes shift the slightest bit as if to challenge me. Again, I hesitated in thinking on what I should do. She didn't stop me, but she wasn't welcoming my presence just the same.

Eventually, I chose to embrace her. I held her tight and firm but did not squeeze her. At the same time, she didn't hug me back. If this was her from a few days ago she would have gasped and blushed a storm. When I pulled away, there was a small tint of a blush, but she was also looking at me with skepticism— trying to determine if I was being sincere or not.

Can a person truly change within just a few days?

"I thought you were dead," I said quietly as I guided her out of the kitchens so we could talk in private. "Your records were supposed to be destroyed so I assumed the count… Siesta, what happened to you?"

Her brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Oh, I believe you mean what happened to this…?"

From the front of her apron pocket she pulled out a large black envelope tied in black lace. I took it from her while flipping it over to see who the sender was. It was unmarked.

"I haven't opened it. I'm giving it back to you like you asked me to."

Like I… asked? Impossible. If the Royal Messenger took the three girls from the academy on the Day of the Void, on the day Louise and I were shopping, then there wasn't any way I could have handed her something like this without my recollection. The only possible chance would be if I wasn't myself, but that little moment was yesterday and Siesta had been gone for almost three days.

My eyes didn't pick up any mystic traps within its fibers. But in caution, I slowly released the knot while reinforcing myself in protections. Inside was a letter written in…

In my handwriting.

To the King of Tristain,

I am writing this letter six hours after our engagement. I have observed from your meeting with Osmond you are the only one who has any recollection of my presence. This was intentional. You have also come to your own conclusion that it will be pointless to look for me and the Crumbling Dirt unless we reveal ourselves. Our business with the Magic Academy of Tristain is complete and so we shall not bother you once again unless you come to us first. However, my surveillance will continue to observe the activities of the Academy as well as you.

I have also extracted Captain George MacDulan's body from the hidden burial site after learning of his existence. He will be receiving a proper military burial according to our customs and his tools will be put back into distribution.

All articles within the Academy's treasury that once belonged to the Special Intelligence Tactical Hunters have been extracted. Any magic artifact that has potential for carnage has been destroyed. Though I have warned you to keep an eye on the Vindálfr, the Myozunitonirun should not be ignored. The woman may be the weakest of us at her base, but her potential with her Void gift can surpass us. Especially if she gets a hold of that sword of yours.

Do NOT let her get a hold of any magic instrument if it is within your power.

As an apology for causing you so much harm, and I had not expected you to react so in the destruction of your construct, I will be deploying my resources to do you a kindness. By the time you are reading this letter, that kindness will be fulfilled. Whether you are aware of it or not at this moment, Siesta as well as twelve others I have located will be escorted to the Academy, to their previous places of employment, or to their home villages at separate intervals as to not raise suspicion. These thirteen individuals have been declared deceased but were, in fact, sold in a slave-trade.

There were others, but unfortunately my investigation has found them dead. The culprits have already been dealt with.

I suggest you start keeping an eye on the events taking place within Tristain. I will be returning to Albion to deal with the war and can only afford to leave resources open for observation in Tristain. Be wary of the Chief of Justice, the Royal Messenger, and the Chief Tax Collector. I believe they are all traitors and will be bringing war to Tristain by their foolishness. And it would be best if you keep the information of being Gandálfr to yourself for as long as possible.

However, if you've the need to teach Louise Void magic, I suggest you ask Osmond for the Founder's Prayer Book. I believe its writings are sealed with magic, but I also believe a man of your caliber can reveal its secrets.

I will be keeping an eye on you, King of Tristain. As such, if there is something you need of me, simply call out to me and I will respond if I am able to.

But if you don't wish to be my enemy, stay out of Albion.

Until we meet again,

Fifth Predator, Lance-Corporal Artemis James Philips of the Special Intelligence Tactical Hunters, the Lífþrasir of Westwood.

…What the bloody fuck?!

I read the letter over and over just to make sure someone wasn't screwing with me. This was my handwriting, my style of grammar, and my name with my signature. I could only speculate this was another trick like the Lífþrasir's ability to completely vanish. Did the man just have the ability to alter his presence in its entirety? He must have. I mean, it wasn't possible for there to be two… well, me!

I am a Unique. My father was a Unique. It meant there could only be one individual in all of existence within the Law of Progress. Therefore, the idea of a parallel me couldn't be possible.

Whatever. It was just another headache to deal with. The importance of the letter took priority. The Lífþrasir took it upon himself to bring Siesta here. And let's not forget he had been spying on our meeting with Osmond after our mess up against Foquet without anyone noticing. Hell, with that cloaking ability he could have been sitting right next to me the whole time!

"King Philips…?"

I had forgotten Siesta was patiently waiting for me to finish reading the letter. I folded it back up and tucked it inside the envelope. I would read it one more time when I could find peace. "Siesta, did anyone escort you back to the academy? I need you to tell me what happened."

Her head tilted in confusion. "Are you feeling unwell, Your Majesty? Before you departed from me there was no one. You watched me enter the gates just an hour ago."

"Please just call me Artemis," I groaned. "Siesta, we're friends."

"Yes, and I'm eternally grateful you rescued me from those monsters," she replied honestly, but also mechanically like her cheerfulness had to be forced.

"I believe you may have been confused about who saved you," I explained. "I was just recently looking into your disappearance and confronting Count Mott about it. This just happened today and I just got back more than an hour ago. I couldn't have been the one to escort you."

"But that's…" she looked away as her eyes began to look lost. "No… I know you were my hero. I know it!"

She wrapped her arms around herself as a smile grew. Not one of warmth, but a cold and bitter one filled with anxiety. "You were just as tall, walked like you did, talked like you did, and I saw your face! King Philips, you came bursting through the dungeon and killed those monsters before they devoured me. You're my hero. You're my hero…

"You're a very powerful mage. You could have been at two places at once. Yes, I've seen you do it! You were in multiple places during the fight, so I know you know such a spell! You saved me while you confronted the count! You're my hero, King Philips!"

I… didn't know what to do at this point. Denying her words would just cause her to reject reality even further until she loses herself. No, Siesta was already lost in her own madness. She was confusing what the Lífþrasir had done with her own fantasies. The fact that he could duplicate my appearance as well as my handwriting didn't help one bit. But appear in multiple places? She must have meant that same technique to have his black goons appear out of nowhere.

I embraced Siesta from behind and gave a firm squeeze. She flinched and nearly jerked out from the touch, but her shoulders slumped in acceptance. Her hands met mine and she gave them a squeeze, making me pull her in closer to me.

It was then she let everything go. Her knees gave in and I lowered her to the ground. Tears streamed from her face as she wailed out all of her misery. She turned and gripped my shoulders with all the strength her frustration could muster. Her head dug into my chest as she let out as loud of a scream as she could. What defense she built to keep herself alive as well as her sanity had crumbled. In this moment, she felt protected by the one she had misguidedly believed to be her savior.

As I held her and let her cry, as I ignored the looks of the wandering Noble brats and the staffs running out of the kitchen to see why there was screaming, my vision flared once more in red rage.

I haven't had such an overpowering urge to kill someone since Matthew had promised to rape Terah.

I swore to myself that I will never let something like this happen to Siesta ever again. I will do everything in my power to make sure this will never happen to anyone. And if it does, then those who have crossed me will face oblivion. So help me, for as long as I am Godking Dalang, a King of Ilyvander, and as long as I am Artemis James Philips, I will be Justice itself if I must.

Even if it means I have to become Tristain's new tyrant.