by Ink Bamboo
Slyfox no longer bothered talking to the child. He scoffed, reassured by the fact that the nobles would probably chose to deal with the boy before attacking the slums as a whole. It gave him a chance to sweep in as a savior, recovering everything that was rightfully his.
The air in the room became tense with each second of silence that went by. Most of the small gang leaders remained silent, for as much as they had mocked Slyfox moments before, they knew he was still stronger than all of them.
It took the time a few minutes for someone to break the silence. It was Maria, the brown-haired girl who had been serving as Zaros’s meal-delivery girl the few days before her kidnapping.
“I think you’re wrong,” she said. “It hasn’t been long since boss took over, but the changes are already visible. There isn’t as many people hungry on the streets and our need to be part of crime has lowered. Instead of spending most of our profits on alcohol and drugs, it’s being invested in providing food for the others.”
“And how long do you think that will last?” interrupted Slyfox, pointing to the rest of the people in the room. “Do you think they will agree with not being able to use their profits as they want?”
Those pointed by Slyfox looked sideways, unable to retort their old leader’s words. He was far too familiar with their darkest desires. While it was true that they feared and respected Zaros, there was a slight fire of rebellion inside them hating the fact that they were being micromanaged.
“How long do you think it will be before they rise against this kid? They might not voice their discontent because of fear, but even if the nobles don’t kill him, they will eventually try to do so themselves. The law of the slums has always been the culling of the weak. If we just feed and shelter them, they will grow complacent. How do you think the slums were formed in the first place?”
Zaros frowned. It’s true, he thought. He had used his strength and everyone’s fear of him to enforce his orders. Very few were willing to follow them out otherwise. Initially, he didn't plan to take over the gang, but once Amro had given him control, he had forced his ideals on them. It caused Zaros to feel conflicted. Was he the same as Slyfox?
Maria went silent after Slyfox’s reproach. Despite being young, she could understand the meaning behind his words. It was part of human nature. Even she was willing to throw someone under if she or her brothers could benefit from it.
“You’re still offering no solution,” said Alexander. He stepped up from his place beside Zaros, chin held high. After what had happened recently, he was willing to become Zaros’s number one lackey if the boy ever requested it.
“Everything you just argued is something we have to change,” he admitted. “If it was a couple of days ago, I might’ve thought differently. Hell, I might have done so yesterday. If someone had told me that I had to risk my life in order to save someone else, I would have refused without thinking it twice.”
Seeing everyone’s eyes on him, Alexander gathered his thoughts before continuing. “I have changed, though. When Maria was taken, I had no one to turn to, no way to get anyone’s help without compensation. Just who would be selfless enough to help me?”
“Only boss extended his hand. I don’t think he is being idealistic; rather, it is us who have forgotten what it means to have compassion. I know I’m in no place to take the moral high ground when I’m to blame for all of this, but I can’t agree with you, Slyfox.”
The old leader of the slums looked at the young man with curiosity. Never had the teenager been able to look him straight in the eyes before this day, much less challenge him as he had done just now. He smiled, feeling a mix of pride and pity.
“It seems like even my men have been contaminated by your way of thinking,” he said, looking at Zaros. “I never thought the day would arrive where not only would I lose my men, but the slums would lose their ideals. You think peace is achievable without sacrifices? Fine, prove it.”
“You should listen to him this once, boy. His ideals might be different from your own, but his foresight isn’t all that bad; sometimes you will need people like this by your side, willing to make the choices you do not want to,” Amro advised.
Zaros’s tunnel vision could become his downfall. That’s why Amro found it rather convenient to have him clash with people who had a different point of view from his own. With exchanges like this, the boy could grow a much broader perspective. If he didn’t, he would have no choice but to learn it the hard way, through more sacrifices of his own.
Zaros disagreed with Amro’s words, however. Even if the choice to take over the gang had not been originally his, he had grown fond of them. How then could he forgive someone who was willing to see his own men as sacrificial pawns? Wouldn’t that make him the same as the royal family who ordered his village’s death?
Using his denial as courage, Zaros continued, “You told me I’m a hypocrite for forcing my interests upon my subordinates. I won’t deny that much.”
“However, what does that make you? You are just as guilty of that as I am. All the slums’ money had to go through your hands, so don’t you dare point your finger at me.”
“I won’t deny that I took my share,” answered Slyfox with a sneer plastered on his face. “But you seem to be wrong about something. I made the slums what they are now. Before me, the nobles did as they pleased with everyone inside. At least under me, they were somehow protected. What is one or two people getting sold as slaves when another fifty get to live because of it? I brought order to chaos.”
Hitting his fist on the wall, Slyfox continued. “You haven’t even been in the slums for a month, but the nobles have already united to go against you. So what if I kept some profit to myself? At least I was considerate about the consequences my actions had on everyone else.”
Slyfox’s anger grew as he faced Zaros’s criticism. Only he was aware of how much he had to endure, all so he could build his gang from scratch many years ago.
“That’s not you being considerate. That’s you being a coward,” Zaros retorted. “Did you ever fight them? Were you willing to put your life on the line for them? Or, have you convinced yourself that you really did your best?”
Slyfox, however, wasn’t willing to leave it at that. “You think it doesn’t pain me to lower my head to those nobles? Every person I sacrifice is an admittance of my weakness. I chose wisely, the sacrifice of the few for the wellbeing of the many.”
“I think you’re losing track of what’s important, boy,” reprimanded Amro. “I won't comment on your ideals, but don’t forget who your true enemy is.”
Coming to the same realization as Amro, Maria interrupted their conversation.
“Stop! Don’t you see the only ones who benefit from our internal fighting are the nobles? They don’t even see us as humans. All they care for is how much profit we are able to provide them.” A cold feeling of dread reminded her of something she would prefer to forget.
“Whether it is through sacrifice, or whether it is through fighting, our enemy remains the same. At this point, even that doesn’t matter; they will be coming for us regardless of what we do. Their pride wouldn’t allow them to behave otherwise.”
The silence in the room was broken by everyone’s sudden agreement. No one could dispute her words, not even Slyfox nor Zaros. Both of them might disagree on how to do things, but fundamentally, both cared for the wellbeing of their subordinates. It was how they cared about them that varied.
Since the two of them shared this sentiment, it would have been foolish to keep arguing. They could only compromise on what to do next.
“I plan to set up a resistance against them,” said Zaros. “I’m convinced we can even get help from the commoners if we convey our intentions to them properly.”
“I don’t think that will be the case. Not once in my decades here have I seen those spineless commoners involve themselves with our people. Regardless, I’ll help you as I deem fit,” Slyfox answered. “However, I’ll refrain from doing so openly.
When your plans fail, I need to be there to pick up your slack.”
Zaros smiled, understanding Slyfox’s intentions. He planned to help only enough to have a claim to the ‘throne’ should he fail.
Amro laughed as he watched the mortals squabble over something so trivial. As long as he was here, even if the boy decided to go against the world on his own, Amro was sure he would find a way to win. His restraint from meddling into the boy’s business so far was only because he wanted to encourage the boy’s personal growth. In the end, while he could guarantee power to the boy, he couldn’t guarantee mental fortitude of an equivalent strength. That was something Zaros needed to cultivate on his own.
Thanks to Maria’s brief speech, everyone found themselves cooperating to create a united front. They still had much to do before confronting the nobles. Fortunately, after the recent raid on Baron Lapas’s estate, they now had sufficient funding for whatever course of action they wished to take.
The next few days would be quite busy for every faction.
Chapter 23
A cup of tea over a cup of poison.
After last night's party, every hoodlum in town woke up full of energy. The recent influx of wealth in the slums’ economy had enlivened all the residents' spirits. For the first time in forever, no one in the slums had to endure a morning of hunger.
That day, the center of the city was unusually filled. Every restaurant and tea shop was filled to the brim with new customers aiming to experience something new. Hoodlums who would have never pictured themselves eating inside an establishment were able to afford the luxury for the first time in their lives.
The shop owners knew where the new customers came from. But given that not even the nobles dared to take action against them, they were not going to stop the new faces from spending their money in their shops. The extraordinarily lively atmosphere in the city center made everyone feel prosperous for the first time in a long time.
This feeling was shared by the commoners to a certain extent. If prosperity came to the western side of the town, the businesses in the rest of Sol would eventually flourish as well. They might even grow into a full-fledged city with enough time.
Such ambiance was enjoyable to the common folk, and as such, even a pair of foreigners were able to enjoy the lively ambiance inside a small tea house.
"I never expected this town to become like this overnight," said a man covered in a gilded white robe. Even though he had a common appearance that would not stand out in a crowd, his playful and lively eyes were charming in their own way. As he waited for his partner's answer, he admired the white hair and grey eyes reflected on the surface of his tea.
"Indeed. Who would have thought that yesterday's commotion would bring today's excitement?" asked the other priest rhetorically. He was too busy combing his obsidian-like hair with his hands to notice his partner’s table manners. His expression was a bit more solemn than his partner's, but his opinion about the recent events was all the same.
Both men were envoys sent by the capital’s division of the Church of Life to help the Church of Harvest. A couple of years ago, their church had formed an alliance with many smaller deities' churches, taking them in like some form of vassals.
Even if the followers from those churches didn't hold a particularly strong belief in their goddess, they were still able to benefit from the different tithes and offerings collected. As to what reason would have pushed their higher-ups to form such an alliance, both of them could only imagine. Their status in the church wasn’t all that significant.
Both of them were rank two priests. Unfortunately for them, in the grand scale of their church, they were nothing special. Being ‘ordinary’, however, didn’t free them from their responsibilities. They still had a duty to manage the vassals their church had taken under its wings.
Their current mission had three sides to it. First, they were ordered to collect whatever offerings the Church of Harvest may want to deliver to their church. Second, they had to pay attention to the residents of the town in order to find any promising youths who would devote themselves to their faith. Lastly, they were to bless whatever water reservoirs the church kept to themselves.
This was, in their opinion, a waste of their capabilities. Even if they were unable to cast major blessings, they were still able to use minor heals or smite their opponents with their goddess’ holy energy. That being said, turning water into its holy variety was still a great underestimation of their capabilities.
Not that they could do much about it.
The desire to delay their mission for a while drove both men to spend a couple of days in the central part of town. Thus, they decided not to report themselves to the Church of Harvest for the time being. At the very least, they felt entitled to one day of rest.
However, not even in their wildest dreams did they expect to see something as unusual as yesterday's events. A group of thugs guided by a young man had decided to assault the troops of a noble. In addition, the mob had actually succeeded and claimed the lives of most of the noble's troops.
Normally, the sight of wanton death would have caused priests of their church to frown in disgust. However, Baron Lapas had a reputation even they knew about. The man was a friend of enslaving people and instigating wicked methods of torture to break their spirits.
Alas, politics and religion often mixed in the worst of ways. Given Baron Lapas’s influence over the Kingdom of Nyx, all low-ranking priests had received a directive not to interfere with the man nor his business. An order they had been glad to comply with for once.
However, something else bothered them about that day’s events. There was an eerie feeling of death within the crowd far too dense to be considered normal. The few dozen kills caused by the mob shouldn’t have been enough to condense an energy of death of that level. It was something they would have to investigate before returning.
"So, Lucille, do you think we should report in today?" asked the common-looking priest.
"Probably," answered his partner, taking a sip of his tea. "It's going to be quite troublesome to join so soon after yesterday events, though. They will try to pin their responsibilities onto us. Worst-case scenario, they will request us to heal the survivors from that incident."
Resting his back on his chair, Lucille continued, "Ugh, it's going to be so annoying! Does their church not have any high ranking priests who can use a mass-heal? These backwater towns are such a drag."
“I know, pay it no mind for now. What do you think if —”
As he turned around to look at his partner, the obsidian-haired priest caught a glimpse of something happening on the outside. He didn’t even bother finishing his sentence. A big crowd seemed to be gathering, foreboding another bothersome event.
"Can't we enjoy a single day of peace?" he said, placing a golden coin on the table as he got ready to leave. "Let's go check out what's happening, Lucille. More trouble seems to be coming our way."
Lucille stared at his partner with a look of confusion. “Hey, Michael, where are you going?” he asked, watching the raven-haired cleric step outside the store. Seeing he was not going to get any answer, he gulped down the remainder of his tea in one go, standing up and leaving the establishment.
What greeted them both of them as they stepped outside was a crowd gathered around two simple-looking men. It was the Weaver brothers. Both of them looked rather wounded and disheveled as if they had been running through shrubbery for several days and nights. Even their humble clothes had been torn to shreds. Their appearance looked rather dramatic, considering they were in the middle of town.
Next to them stood a beautifully dressed lady with charming features. She was the merchant who had hosted the meeting in the eastern district the day before. Her golden hair rested on her shoulders while her hands rested on her hips, subtly attracting the gazes from those who were not sufficiently enraptured by the commotion.
"Please hear us out, residents of Sol. The rebels are upon us! Please, ready you
rselves before you suffer the same fate as we did," said one of the eldest of the Weaver brothers while looking at the crowd.
The younger brother soon echoed, "Our families were massacred, our friends burned to ashes. Ready yourselves, the rebels are coming!"
As if receiving a cue, the well dressed blonde accompanying the two of them stepped forward, using her allure to guide all the gazes to herself.
"Do you see, my dear people? The rebels might attack our town very soon. The peace we’ve worked so hard to build is being threatened. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had been working on this for long, eroding the harmony we all had achieved. As a matter of fact, don't you think there is someone in particular who has tried to divide us?"
Down in the crowd, both priests glanced at each other. The questions in their eyes were the same. First, were the rebels really coming? As members of the clergy they were deeply aware of the kingdom’s politics. There was no strategic value for their group to attack this town. They were already winning the war up-north without bothering to do such a thing, anyway.
Second, what did she intend to do by sharing this information with the commoners? If anything, she was better off rallying the nobles’ personal troops first. Inciting mass panic was counterproductive to the civilians’ protection.
“Is that Lady Faraz?” asked the obsidian-haired priest. “I see her reputation precedes her.”
"Indeed, those curves and emerald eyes can only belong to her," answered Lucille. Fortunately for him, the church of life didn’t frown upon his lascivious thoughts. If anything, they were mildly encouraged. That is, so long as he procreated and eventually formed a family of his own.
This white-haired priest had a not-so-hidden habit of keeping track of the best looking woman amongst the nobles. What's more, he held a secret he would never admit. He had joined the Church of Life based on the depiction of their goddess alone, not because of his faith in their creed of the Church of Life. If anything, his faith was towards beauty. Something that might explain his slow progress as a priest.