by Hugo Huesca
Gallio raised an eyebrow. He was a man of action. A fighter. He understood as much of coin and politics as a spiderling did. “I don’t follow, Hatter,” he said.
The Examiner lifted a finger. “The Starevosi campaign is a royal mess. The King’s coffers are almost dry, and the nobility is tired of paying for what is, in their opinion, a bad business venture. Financing the Heroes is already expensive. Having them active in three different countries—Lotia, Heiliges, and Starevos—is the crown’s biggest financial drain. At the beginning of the campaign, both the King and the nobles hoped to use the Starevosi war tax to pay for the Heroes we need to protect our lands and to keep Lotia weak. But that has been a massive failure, Inquisitor. The war ravaged Starevos—they have little left to survive. Their nobility is in shambles, and the royal family has disappeared, taking what little was left of their fortune with them. So, our own nobility wishes to cut ties and leave. Take the Heroes out of here and focus on our homeland and our ancient enemy. King Varon, on the other hand, wants to find a way to remove the power the nobility has in his court. He hates to depend on their good will and their fortunes, and Starevos was his big shot. He’s not willing to walk away. He’s raising taxes and increasing the Militant Church’s presence. This in turn angers the Starevosi and ensures they cannot afford to pay the tax anyway, so they rebel all over the country… which forces King Varon to raise the Inquisition’s presence, and the expense grows with each Hero running around…” He made a circular motion with his hand. “Do you see where this is going, Inquisitor? What happens when a thriving Dungeon Lord is added to the mix? What happens when you step in?”
“I…” Gallio rubbed his temple with a pained frown. “A Dungeon Lord corrupting a city would force the Militant Church to stay in Starevos, no matter the expense. We cannot allow the Dark to get a foothold anywhere else. My presence… if what you’re saying is true…” He shrugged. “What side is the Inquisition on? The King or the nobles?”
Alvedhra shook her head, looking as confused as Gallio felt. “The Militant Church is in the side of the Light. We don’t take political stances. It’s on the tenets.”
“Well,” said Hatter, rubbing his neck and looking contrite. “Perhaps what’s true for the whole doesn’t necessarily apply to the individual. Even if our organization stays away from court intrigue, our men and women come from children of both noble and humble births. That complicates things. King Varon is beloved by the common folk. Most of the noble Inquisitors still, although they’d never admit it, cling to notions of their blood making them better than their brothers and sisters. In other words—”
“Everyone’s taking sides,” Gallio said.
What was more jarring was that this had been going on for a long time, and yet he’d never heard of it. Thinking back, the distance he’d felt from his fellow Inquisitors—even those who were in the same rank as him gained a new meaning—he’d thought they avoided him because he was the black sheep. But maybe they wished to keep him out of the loop on purpose.
Examiner Hatter nodded sadly. “The Examiners are doing their best to prevent the Inquisition from infighting, Gallio. Despite the way they’ve treated you, I believe Harmon and Bartheny have the best intentions. See, you are a powder keg. A fallen Inquisitor who found his faith again, then returned to the flock with Alita’s blessing. There’s power in symbolism, Gallio, and the symbolism about your tale can be quite powerful if used by the wrong hands. Both sides would love to get you on their side. Those that want to leave would claim that your powers mean that Alita trusts the Starevosi to protect themselves—maybe by creating a local branch of the Inquisition. Those that want to stay would say that your power means the Light considers it our duty to protect the country,” he said. “And now, with Lord Wraith’s presence in Undercity, the situation is even more volatile. Both sides are at each other’s throats. Examiner Harmon and Bartheny needed to deal with the problem quickly and succinctly—no matter the cost—before someone does something they’ll regret. Remember, if we fight among ourselves we’re easy prey for the Dark. And even I fear what could happen if you’re added into this mess.”
“You beat him and threw him in prison because you don’t want him to go out there and fight for the Light?” Alvedhra said, raising her eyebrows, her tone a mix of disbelief and righteous anger. “All because the King needs more money?”
Gallio eyed her with worry. She hadn’t realized some of the implications of Hatter’s tale. Heiliges had invaded Starevos more out of monetary concerns than of good intentions. She was the first Starevosi Inquisitor. No matter her feelings on the matter, once she’d had time to sort them out, she was as involved in this internal conflict as Gallio was, whether or not they both wanted it.
After all, Hatter had told them both his story. Gallio doubted that had been by accident.
“My apologies,” Hatter said, sounding like he meant it. “It’s hard to realize that our leaders are as human as we are. We mostly spend our time running damage control, just as confused about what’s truly going on as everyone else.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Gallio asked. He narrowed his eyes. “What side are you on, Examiner?”
The man sighed. “I’m an orphan, born and raised in the Militant Church. All my life. It’s all I know.” He straightened his back and his stance gained an air of strength and intensity, and for a second there, Gallio could see the reason why Hatter was an Examiner. He was more than he looked. “I told you my reasons so you could understand. So you would remain here out of your own free will because it’s the right thing to do. Also, so you make up your mind. If you wish to take a side, I’ll consider it Alita’s will. But…” He and Gallio locked gazes. “While the fight is going on, I’ll be creating a summoning circle to Galtia. I’d like you to come with me, once this is over. Something is wrong with the Inquisition, Gallio. The sunwave is the warning sign. This inner conflict is distracting the other two Examiners, but it's our duty to examine our wrongs and right them. There’s even a risk that this mess is by design. By whom, or even how, I cannot tell. But together, we could get to the bottom of it.”
So, there it was. At least things made some kind of sense, even if Hatter’s explanation had created more questions than answers. Gallio looked outside, through the small barred window of the prison. Towers of smoke rose from the ports, marring the view of the crystal blue sea. The sky above was turning crimson, and the twin moons were but two slices of light, orange and green, like the smiles of twin gods observing the slaughter and accepting it as sacrifice.
He could only hope that not too many innocents were caught in the crossfire. That, somehow, Enrich was skilled enough to get the Heroes to target only the criminals. But that was vain hope, come from his knowing that he was as guilty as any other Inquisitor. In their pride, both Edward Wright and himself, thinking they could outsmart the Light, had only made things worse.
But, if the gods were fair, why punish people that had done nothing wrong? Why not punish him instead?
Unless it’s not the gods who are doing it, Gallio thought. For the first time, he considered that him having the only sunwave of modern times could have some kind of meaning other than it being some sort of mistake.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
“Very well,” said Hatter placidly. He eased his way back to the door. “I’ll prepare the circle at once. Whenever we’re ready, I’ll send my men to free you. I’m sure Harmon will be too busy to find out about our… escapade, until it’s too late. And then I’ll convince him it was the best move.” He faced Alvedhra and told her, “You’re welcome to come with us, Inquisitor. This concerns you as well.”
Alvedhra’s expression was unreadable. Gallio had known her for many years, and still he couldn’t fathom what was going on in the Ranger’s mind. “I’ll stay. For now,” she said. “Inquisitor Oak is waiting for me. Regardless of the reasons of the Examiners, there’s still a Dungeon Lord running rampant across a Starevosi city, and it’s my sworn duty t
o purge the Dark.” She clenched her hand into a fist. “I won’t allow what happened in Burrova to happen again.”
There was determination in the way she stood then, one hand on her sword hilt and gaze distant and determined.
You’re not ready, Gallio thought. But he also knew there was nothing he could say to dissuade her. This was her path. Her very own personal quest. “Good luck, Inquisitor,” he told her. “May the Light guide your path.”
Master and apprentice faced one another, both fearing it may be the last time they saw the other. “And yours as well,” Alvedhra whispered.
And then Gallio was alone again with his thoughts while Undercity burned behind him.
The house had many rooms and many floors, and it was big and quiet in the way only a nearly empty house could be. A lone young man sat in front of his high-end desktop PC, wading through clickbait YouTube videos and meaningless social media drivel. It was a Friday night.
But he was only deluding himself, and he knew it. His gaze wandered across his room, at the consoles he’d stacked on shelves along with pretty much every game rated higher than an eight in the last few decades. His own Steam library wouldn’t even fit in the room. He’d need a lifetime to play all that content, and yet he was bored.
There were many types of gamers. Most played for fun. Others, like Ryan, didn’t even like gaming all that much. It was only that, in the end, they’d rather be anyone else but themselves.
If Ryan had too much peace and quiet, he’d have to listen to the things his brain had to say about him. And nobody wants that, he thought as he looked for another video.
When his phone buzzed with a message, he reached for it almost instantly, dreading that it’d be a notification for a spam email. In an ideal world, that cute doctor he’d met while traveling with his so-called friends would finally be returning his messages, but he’d learned not to get his hopes up. Girls were usually too stupid to realize what a great catch he was.
This time was no different. It was an Ivalis Online notification, sent in big bold letters, announcing a World Event.
Undercity’s Corruption! World Event. The city of Constantina in the distant kingdom of Starevos has been infiltrated by a terrible cult led by a powerful Boss. The only way to save the Good-abiding citizens is to delve straight into the corrupted parts of the city and fight in an epic battle against the hordes of cultists and minions of Lord Wraith before it’s too late. Don’t miss this thrilling urban warfare experience—come join the resistance against the evil Lord Wraith!
Difficulty Level: High. Rewards: Very High.
Ryan sighed and deleted the notification. A World Event was a special type of quest where most players in a game could participate. In fact, it was usually too demanding for a single party—or even a big clan—to clear on their own. World Events moved the storyline forward in most online RPGs, and no player worth their salt would ever miss one for their favorite game. And the loot usually involved unique items that weren’t available elsewhere.
Still, he’d have to deal with Lisa, Mark, and that other guy—whatever his name was—for several hours, and he wasn’t sure he was up for it. Not only they were mediocre players who barely listened to him, Lisa was growing more and more nasty with him with every passing week. Sometimes he wondered why the hell she didn’t quit at the store, but she was obviously not good enough to get any other job. He certainly wouldn’t fire her and have to pay her unemployment wage, but the fact that plain Lisa dared act like she was somehow better than him was getting on his nerves. If only he could figure out a way to force her to do more cleaning overtime, she’d leave on her own. It was for her own good, of course. He only wanted what was best for people. That was why it was so unfair he had to spend the night alone in his room with only himself for company.
Lisa and that Edward asshole had been tight once. Ryan wasn’t an idiot, he knew that his gaming “friends” spent more time talking on private channels among each other than with him. Who knew what Eddy had told Lisa before he’d gone insane and run away from the police? Hell, perhaps she was helping him hide.
For a minute, he ran wild with the idea of following her to her apartment, where Eddy would be hiding in fear, smelly and living like a hobo, wallowing in his own filth. Ryan would burst in like a shining paladin and extract his revenge on the man while the bitch bawled in a corner.
Ryan closed the tab of the children-falling-over compilation and looked at the ceiling. It was a cold night, which made his nose itch uncomfortably in a way he couldn’t ever scratch. It’d been like that since that sociopath had smashed his face against his own desk.
I’d give anything for a chance to teach him a lesson, Ryan thought bitterly.
The world was shit and the gods could blow him.
He opened the Ivalis Online launcher. Mark and Lisa were already online—like he’d said, no gamer would miss a World Event of their favorite game if they could help it. Ryan smiled bitterly to himself—they hadn’t even bothered to call him.
Well, he certainly wasn’t about to let them have all the fun. He logged in with his highest-level character, Rylan Silverblade the First.
25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Justified Use of Violence
The War Room was so cramped that the drones had had to take the table outside to make enough space for everyone. Ed stood with his back against the wall, wearing his recently enchanted armor over padded black gambeson. The faint glow of his armor’s runes, hidden beneath the folds of the armor, gave an eerie appearance to his body. Over his head, the leg of Queen Amphiris was like a scythe about to fall on the unsuspecting public. He felt cold, despite the heated walls, in a way that his cloak could do nothing to change.
He took a quick tally of everyone in the room, flicking between normal and dungeon vision without even thinking about it. Kaga and his kaftar could barely keep themselves from jumping around—the news of their friends’ capture had rattled them to the core. Klek was chatting with Drusb and a Rider named Vogkord, trying to keep them calm without much success. Zachary and Andreena were arguing by a corner, with Brett pretending that his knees weren’t shaking. Heorghe and his wife, Ivona, exchanged gloomy glances and kept to themselves. Jarlen was sleeping in her coffin, and would be until sundown. Five horned spiders—one for each of Laurel Empire’s clusters—hung from silvery threads on the ceiling. Alder and Lavy were to one side of Ed, and Kes on the other.
Did we cause this? he was thinking. Is this blood on our hands?
“It has to be some kind of mistake,” Zachary was telling Andreena. “The Militant Church are the good guys. They don’t go around killing innocents, they save them from the Dark!”
“They also decide who is innocent and who isn’t,” Andreena told the Priest. “And right now, we’re public enemy number one. Remember?”
“Still! We must talk to them—explain our point of view. Oynnes agrees with us, we cannot be all that bad!” Zachary passed his hands over his shiny bald head, his jaw trembling beneath his beard. “A mistake. That’s all it is. Someone misinformed Lord Wraith about the gravity of the situation. The Militant Church will jail the kaftar, perhaps chase after the Thieves Guild, have the King’s officers close a couple taverns. That’s all!”
“Oh, you poor old fool,” Andreena said, placing a placating hand on the man’s arm. “We both know that’s not true.”
Ed had never seen Zachary look so dejected. “We’re supposed to be the good guys,” he mumbled. “I only wanted… to help.” He hid his face behind his tunic’s sleeve.
The rest of the chatter followed along those lines, although Zachary was the only one willing to give the Inquisition the benefit of the doubt. Ed let them go on for a couple minutes, even though he knew they were there to hear him speak.
He did it because he was thinking frantically, setting aside everything that wasn’t helpful to deal with the problem—he thought of Undercity’s situation as “the problem” because it was the only way to keep
calm enough to be rational. He ignored his feelings of guilt, and the fear that he could be about to lose everyone he cared for. There were only three questions that mattered:
What do I have? What do I need? And, lastly, how can I use what I have to get what I need?
Only that was worth thinking about. He could deal with his emotions later when there weren’t any lives at stake.
He had the Monster Hunters. A few surviving monsters from the test dungeon. The Hell Chickens. Lavy’s research. Laurel’s Spider Empire, although it was still low in numbers because of the infighting. He had the Spider Riders, Diviner Pholk, and Jarlen, and his friends. He had the Haunt, so strong and yet so fragile, every life a precious resource he couldn’t afford to lose. And he had himself, willing to do anything to stop “the problem” from happening.
Someone tugged on his sleeve, bringing him out of his reverie. It was Lavy, concern glinting in her purple eyes. “Ed,” she began in a whisper. “You realize this is not only your fault, right? You need not fight alone.”
Ed blinked. Since when could she read his thoughts?
“I’ve seen that look before,” she explained, still whispering. “When you fought Nicolai. This time is different. You know that, don’t you? If we are to win this fight, you must be something more than an angry Dungeon Lord. And we must become something more than minions.”
“Lavy, I’m afraid I don’t understand—”
At that moment, Governor Brett spoke up. “Your Eldritchness, are the rumors true, then? Has the Inquisition declared war on the Haunt?” Ed realized that the other conversations had died off, and that all eyes were on him. Despite his own confusion, it was his duty as their leader to explain the situation to them.