Blessed Time: The Complete Series: (A LitRPG Adventure Box Set), page 121
“Baron Hurdon…” she mused, staring past Micah. “We’ve heard some troubling things about the Baron. His recent rise to prominence is strange enough on its own. A country noble like him shouldn’t have been able to make much of a stir in the capital, but…”
Gwen thought for a moment, fingers drumming on the table. On the other end of the room, Trevor and Esther were out of their seats, pointing out details in the oil paintings lining the hall.
“Fine,” she replied. “Get me your list of traitors and I will consult with the churches. If they tell us to trust you, I will speak with my mother. That still doesn’t mean that you will have the Empire’s unquestioning support. Even if you can see the future, you will need to prove that you are using that gift for our benefit, but at the very minimum, we can start building that bond of trust.”
Micah stood up, extending a hand to the woman. A second later, she joined him, clasping her hand in his.
“That’s all I can ask really,” he said, face shifting into a relieved smile. “I honestly don’t really care much about the fights between political powers and nations. Pereston and Baron Hurdon represent a threat to all life. If I could have lived out a quiet life as a mid-level guildmaster in a border province, I would have preferred that. Unfortunately, circumstance has a tendency to shred any plans that I try to make.”
Gwen nodded back, her smile polite and eyes troubled. Micah didn’t bother to push the issue any further. The royalty had their own troubles, and trying to forcefully sidestep their concerns would only raise more red flags and slow his progress. Plus, he wasn’t lying about the traitors. The Princess was right. If they moved too fast, those men and women would circle like vultures, tearing apart their defenses before Sandrovok even had a chance to fight back.
He walked toward the conference room’s door. It opened a couple steps before his arrival, a smiling man in a suit waiting with his hand on the knob to lead Micah’s party out of the manor. Unsurprisingly, Trevor and Esther took up the rear, ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at gilded pillars and marble statues on their way out.
As soon as they stepped onto the street, Leeka let out a deep sigh of relief. The streets leading to and from the manor were empty, likely periodically cleared by the city guards after the attack on the Princess.
“That was intense,” the tall orange woman said shakily. “I think I’d rather face a dozen monsters than deal with that sort of environment again. I don’t know if I could beat that lady in a fight or not, but she gave off an aura stronger than the Obsidian Striker.”
“Dealing with nobility is never pleasant,” Drekt cut in. “Although the last time we ran into a problem of this magnitude, Micah simply killed everyone involved and fled the country.”
“Not an option this time,” Micah replied. “I doubt I can beat the Third Prince in a one-on-one fight, and the fight won’t be one-on-one. Even with all of Sandrovok’s help, Pereston’s army will be entirely too much. The guild needs to be stronger. There will be at least a dozen of those daemons I fought today. Unless we have the people to hold the daemons off, this war is as good as done, even with Sandrovok’s help.”
“Do you think that I have the ability to fight one of those daemons?” Leeka asked. “I practically froze when I saw them. The lesser ones seemed like jungle predators except twisted and wrong. I could fight and damage them without a serious problem, but the big-people-”
“Luocas,” Micah supplied. “And yes. Every member of the guild’s inner circle has the potential to bring one down. It’s just that none of you are quite there yet. Trevor and Drekt together can fight one to a standstill, but that’s far from killing one outright. Let Drekt, my father and I handle the political side of things. In the coming months, you’ll be training like your life depends upon it because it does. As long as you do what we tell you to, you will be strong enough. It won’t be a pleasant or painless road to get there, but rest assured, I will make sure you reach your goal, even if I have to drag your unconscious body past the finish line.”
“Good,” Leeka said, fire in her eyes as she clenched an orange fist. “I felt so powerless in that last fight, just like I did in those caves. I’m not part of your family the way Eris, Drekt and Esther are, but at the same time, I don’t want to let you down.
“If I have to suffer some pain,” she continued, “so be it. If I have to sacrifice some sleep, that’s fine. Do what you need to make me strong enough to help you. I’m tired of being a burden. I care about you and your friends, Micah Silver. I want to be a true companion. An asset to your cause.”
NINE
A MATTER OF EVIDENCE
A carriage clattered over cobblestone, sharply contrasting with the distant sounds of music and revelry. Drekt, Leeka, and Trevor sat in the darkness next to them, their backs to a grassy berm that was the only thing protecting them from being seen directly by anyone with a torch.
“The man you had me mark is fifteen paces away,” Leeka whispered “Moving at a fast walk or a slow jog. That has to be him in the wagon.”
Micah nodded, pulling a cloth mask up from his chin and over his nose. It wasn’t the best disguise, but it wasn’t really possible to truly hide his unique skill set and weapon style. If he was caught and things turned into a fight, efforts to conceal his identity would be nominal at best. Still, with enough money and the backing of the royal family, even the strongest of circumstantial evidence wouldn’t be enough for someone to level a formal charge against him. Hopefully.
“Are you sure about this?” Drekt asked in a whisper. Both of his hands were on the hilt of the cleaver rammed into the dirt between his knees. “The Princess summoned us to the capital, but we haven’t had a second chance to meet her yet, let alone with the Empress. It seems a bit presumptuous for us to investigate one of her senior nobles without their knowledge or permission.”
“It is,” Micah replied quietly. “But you heard the Princess. They need evidence that Count Arass is planning to betray the empire, and they can’t just take my word for it. The Empress can’t go about gathering it herself without triggering an internal crisis. We were practically at an impasse back in Red Sands. The only way to prove myself is to show up with evidence of the Count’s betrayal. Something that no one can have any doubt of. I’ve already produced the list of likely rebels. If I show up with proof to back up the list, I’m infinitely more likely to get the support of the royal family.”
“But you don’t know for sure, Micah,” Drekt reasoned. “You said it yourself, they’re ‘likely rebels.’ The timeline could have easily changed. If the Third Prince decided to simply pick different candidates this time around, you could be charging into this party and picking fights with perfectly ordinary people.”
Micah shrugged, listening closely to the creak of metal and wood as the carriage began to slip past their hiding spot.
“At least the Knight I had Leeka tag is suspicious,” Micah said absently. “I could practically smell the energy from ritual magic wafting off of him. I’d be flabbergasted if he wasn’t a daemon summoner of some sort, and that’s if I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. He felt wrong to the point that I wouldn’t be surprised if he helped to craft one of those symphony things we encountered on the other side of the ocean.”
“Is that just a thing you can do now?” Drekt asked incredulously. “Look at someone and tell if he is involved in dangerous magic?”
“Kinda?” Micah answered. “I don’t know how to explain it, but interacting with Elsewhere puts a taint on you. Even teleportation marks someone’s soul for a little while, and that’s by far the safest form of interaction you can have with the other plane.”
“He has passed us,” Leeka whispered. “The carriage is still moving away at a steady speed. It doesn't look like we’ve been noticed. Now’s your chance, Micah.”
Micah pushed away from the berm, still in a crouch but prepared to make a break for the coach when Trevor grabbed him by the bicep. He turned and looked his brother in the eyes.
“Not you too, Trevor,” Micah said impatiently. “I don’t have a big window here, and this is our best chance to infiltrate Count Arass’ manor and reveal his involvement. I am out of time for doubts. I need to go now.”
“That’s not it,” Trevor practically whined. “I don’t want to sit around in the dark waiting. I’m hungry and I’m sure they have fancy food in there. Let me come with you. It’ll be just like old times, a boatload of fun.”
Drekt reached out, clasping his hand around Trevor’s wrist and removing it from Micah.
“The ‘old times’ you’re referring to involved the two of you killing Baron Hurdon’s son,” he said carefully. “As I recall, that event along with the invasion of the Baron’s mansion drove the man to the depths of madness that ended with him summoning the Third Prince. We have our hands full dealing with one world-ending calamity. I’d prefer to not knock down the first domino that will lead to the second.”
He cracked a smile, a flash of white teeth in his dark face, barely visible in the starlight.
“At least until we resolve this one,” Drekt continued. “Only one apocalypse at a time. Now go, Micah. The carriage is getting away.”
Micah stood up, checking his status before running after the carriage.
Age: 21 [ERROR] / 35
Class/Level: Divine Candidate 55
XP: 1,245,700/1,700,000
HP: 9794/9794
Class Specialty
Chronomancer, Enchanter
Attributes
Body: 59
Agility: 59
Mind: 119
Spirit: 118
Attunement
Moon: 110
Sun: 70
Night: 125
Mana
Moon: 9955/9955
Sun: 9875/9875
Night: 9985/9985
Affinities
Time: 10
Tier V - Foresight 19, Time Echoes 3, Temporal Transfer 3, Haste 16
Tier VI - Temporal Vortex 14, Temporal Stutter 7, Stasis 6
Tier VII - Time Leash 7, Weave of Fate 5,
Tier VIII - Deja Vu 5
Wood: 8
Tier I - Refresh 14, Mending 13, Plant Weave 21
Tier II - Augmented Mending 20, Root Spears 14
Tier III - Heal 13, Paralytic Sting 6, Explosive Thicket 13
Tier IV - Regeneration 12, Healing Wave 6, Poison Fog 15
Tier V - Panacea 7, Coma 6, False Life 3
Tier VI - Binding Vines 12, Infest 4
Air: 7
Tier I - Gale 11, Air Knife 24, Air Supply 6
Tier II - Wind Shield 11, Sonic Bolt 18
Tier III - Updraft 5, Pressure Spear 15, Sonic Orb 14
Tier IV - Flight 14, Wind Blade 13
Tier V - Vacuum 6
Blessings
Mythic Blessing of Mursa - Blessed Return, Ageless Folio
Skills
Anatomy: 10
Arcana: 22
-???: 1
Enchanting: 36
Fishing: 2
Herbalism: 5
Librarian: 5
Ritual Magic: 39
Spear: 41
-Wind Spear: 13
-TITS: 22
Spellcasting: 51
One level. Experience came at the same speed, but earning millions of points would never be easy. He was closer to level 60 and his third specialization, but there was still a major gap between him and where he needed to be. More interesting was the new addition to Arcana. His status couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but there was something there. Something new. An energy that he barely understood and couldn’t quite access freely.
He hurried in a low crouch after the carriage, mouthing the words to Flight. The coach was carved from rare hardwoods and lacquered until it shone in the uncertain light of the four lanterns swaying back and forth on each of its corners.
When Micah had spotted the knight back in the capital and had Leeka mark him, the man had only had a driver, a young woman, and a single guard with him. In all likelihood, his companion would be in the carriage with him while the driver and the guard sat at the front of the coach, but that didn’t mean that he could be conspicuous.
Micah’s feet left the cobblestones of the road, floating soundlessly to the back of the vehicle, where they touched down gently. His contact didn’t disturb the coach at all, the added weight barely shifting the carriage in between the regular creaking and swaying as it was pulled toward its destination, Count Arass’ estate.
The polished and lacquered wood was cool under Micah’s fingers as he held firm, pressing his body tight to the carriage. Already he could see the wall, fifteen paces high and made from mirror-smooth white stone that marked the edge of the Count’s manor. It stretched for half a league in either direction, marking the edges of the desert and where the lush olive groves and date orchards of the noble’s gardens began.
Murmurs from the front of the carriage filtered back, and the steady clack of the horses’ hooves began to slow. Micah pressed himself tighter to the back of the wagon, closing his eyes and slipping mana into his bracelet.
It warmed slightly, electrum runes inscribed in the band of gold gleaming in his sleeve as it activated. He felt a brush of Jo’s presence and brief wash of melancholy. It was a hint of her blessing after all, carefully drawn from studying her body and mixed with another stealth blessing from an assassin with the water affinity that were imbued into the enchantment.
The combination wasn’t overly powerful. The sort of blessed that could generate a cloak of invisibility would never consent to let Micah do something as invasive as inspect their soul, but it was still a useful item.
His breath and heartbeat stilled and the shadows around him lengthened. Even his mana curled back in on itself, no longer radiating off of his body where a scout or oracle could see it. Micah was invisible to all senses but one. Sight.
Muffled voices filtered back from the front of the coach as the driver spoke with a gate guard. The air around him tingled as a spellcaster used a detection spell to search the area before the large metal gate opened with a groaning creak.
Micah smiled to himself. It was funny, really, with the help of the crown and his years of research, he was able to put together a magical item that was almost legendary in its ability to conceal him. Its only weakness was the most common sense that almost all living beings relied upon.
The carriage started moving again with a jolt, and Micah remained absolutely motionless. The best the bracelet could do was to extend the shadows around him, making it a little harder to notice him, but that was a weakness he could plan around.
His transportation produced light, but none of it actually shone into the space immediately against its back. The supports that the lanterns were on blocked direct line of sight to the spheres of gas and flame, giving the appearance of a well-lit exterior all while not actually illuminating the narrow shadowed space where he was hiding.
Behind the carriage, the gate closed. Four guards, three in armor and one in the white robes of a spellcaster, chatting quietly beside it. Like he had thought, the party had dozens if not hundreds of guests. Even if they were under explicit orders to closely search each visitor, the knight Micah was following was a late arrival. The dry desert night was cold, and the blessed must be bored to monotony by their repetitive tasks. It was hardly surprising that they only gave the wagon a visual once over before inspecting it with magic. After all, usually, air magic detection spells were significantly more effective at scouting and searching than something as fickle as eyesight.
They rumbled onward, through carefully cultivated gardens and past marble fountains that must have cost a fortune to keep filled. Finally, once the gate was out of sight, Micah cast Flight for a second time and pushed gently off, letting the carriage move on without him as he drifted slowly to the ground.
Micah quietly jogged behind an olive tree. He doubted that the knight’s guard would be looking behind their vehicle, especially now that they were safely on the Count’s land, but he wasn’t going to risk a mission as important as this on a guess.
The carriage clattered onward as Micah looked up at the manor itself. Four stories and built from marble, it was an imposing sight as it loomed over the desert. In his previous life, Count Arass had been a regional power broker with a number of interests in the northern provinces that bordered Pereston. When the attack came, he had been one of the first to betray the Empress and undermine the provincial army.
He had also been one of the first loyalists sacrificed by Baron Hurdon to power the man’s floating citadel. The Third Prince might manipulate humans into supporting it, but that didn’t mean that it actually cared for them or intended to fulfill their requests. Its goal was a Karell bereft of life and order. Once the laws of nature were finally eroded by contamination from Elsewhere, it would destroy the entire planet, consuming its essence to become even stronger than it already was.
Micah’s bracelet was growing warmer around his wrist as it struggled to accommodate the amount of mana flowing through it. He hadn’t timed exactly how long the item would last at full power, and he wasn’t exactly keen on testing the enchantment’s durability.
He took off, floating toward a second-story balcony overlooking a field of roses. Detection spells flowed around him, trying to find either a physical presence through tactile searches using air magic or the mana presence from a spellcaster. His bracelet began to heat up more, to the point where it was beginning to singe and burn the flesh of his arm. Still, Micah didn’t touch down just yet.
