Touch of Fate

Chapter 261: Tied Together

Chapter 261: Tied Together

Brenden watched the dragon take off with mixed feelings.

[I suppose I should be happy that things turned out alright, but I feel like the gap has widened again...]

Dismissing the slight melancholy, he turned to face the prince. "Well, I'm pretty much done here, Your Highness. If you still have business to take care of, I can give you a hand as thanks for accompanying me this far."

Johnathan smiled, "That won't be necessary, but I appreciate the offer nonetheless."

He bent down and scooped up a small bone fragment from a pile of ashes, before placing it in a small leather pouch. "This is what I came for, and so I shall be taking my leave as well. We will head back to rejoin the rest of my forces. You are welcome to come with us, since there is no telling what undead monstrosities still roam the battlefield. It would certainly be safer to travel in a group."

"I'm going to have to pass. On the way here, I ended up leaving my subordinates behind. They are probably frantically-"

He was interrupted by a distant yell, "MY KING!"

A large group could be seen heading this way.

One of the knights, a cat beastman, turned to look in the direction of the sound. "Is he calling Your Highness? But you haven't ascended to the throne yet."

"Something may have happened to the king in our absence." Johnathan replied gravely. "We should speak with them and find out."

Brenden, who recognized the voice as belonging to Fang, began to panic. The last thing he wanted was for the prince and his group to run into his criminal followers at this juncture. At best, it would lead to some awkward questions. At worst...well, he didn't want to think about it.

"AH! Don't worry. That was a friend of mine. He has a habit of calling me that. As a joke, you see. I've told him to stop on a number of occasions, but he never listens."

One of the knights frowned. "That's a problem. You should tell your friend that such a thing is close to treasonous. While I doubt any magistrate would truly prosecute him for it, he would be better off avoiding any undue attention from that kind of behavior."

"Come now, Ian." The Prince broke in. "It's just a harmless nickname. There is no reason to take it seriously. I mean, it's not like he's trying to rebel against the crown and form his own government."

"MY KING! I BRING WORD FROM THE COUNCIL!" Fang yelled again.

Brenden had to use every ounce of his willpower to not let his emotions show as they descended into awkward silence.

"Haha...Well, it sounds like he has an important message from the rest of our friends. I better go meet up with him to make sure that its nothing too serious."

"Ah...yes...that makes sense." The Prince replied with a strained smile. "May you have safe travels until our paths cross again."

"You as well, Your Highness." Brenden replied with a half bow before taking off running.

Thanks to his replenished stamina, it didn't take long for him to meet up with Fang's group. The bear beastman had evidently taken charge of the best of their fighters as they followed after him. This meant that nearly a hundred of the most dangerous criminal enforcers of the city of Almirn were streaming across the battlefield for one purpose and one purpose only.

As soon as he got close, Brenden was welcomed by a loud cheer that sounded half joyous and half relieved.

"King of Thieves!"

"He's alright!"

"I'm so glad!"

"Long live the King of Thieves!"

"My King!" Fang added with a bellow. "I prayed for your safety, and now I see you have returned to us!"

"Quiet! All of you!" Brenden yelled in response, immediately silencing his surroundings. Feeling slightly guilty at the looks of hurt confusion he saw in several of their faces, he coughed. "We aren't exactly in friendly territory, so we don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves. Now come on, lets rejoin the others."

Fang nodded. "As you say, My King. But what of the battle, should we not lend our aid?"

"While there are a few pockets of the enemy left, the Lacotian general has fallen, and the rest should soon follow suit. We no longer have a reason to be out here." He replied while trying to direct the crowd back the way they came.

"You mean to say that the battle is over, and that we won?" The old bear beastman asked, a bit breathlessly.

Brenden sighed. "That's more or less the case. Of course there are still-" The rest of his words were cut off as they spontaneously burst into cheers and started to chant.

"King of Thieves! King of Thieves!"

"QUIET! What did I just say?!"

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Count Graveston sat down in his chair and waited for the door to his cabin to finally close as the last of his aides left. Once it did, he allowed the fatigue he was feeling to finally show. Sagging against the chair's back, he rested his head against its polished surface as a wave of dizziness passed through him.

Although his efforts had been successful, performing that kind of ritual had taken a lot out of him. If not for the potency of the focus device he was using, he doubted if he'd been able to maintain it for as long as he had.

[Ha...It seems I've been slacking in my training. A few decades ago, I could have worked the Ebon Heart Ritual for days without rest. Now, even a couple of hours is enough to leave me feeling faint. How pathetic.]

Resolving himself to increase the amount of time he spent training every day, he forced himself to begin sorting through the various reports on his desk. Even with Mike's victory over the Skull Lord, there were still a multitude of things that needed to be taken care of, and it would be a long and difficult road to begin repairing the devastation caused by two successive invasions.

[Not to mention the situation with the Tennundian homeland. Annexation is the most likely course of action, but it will present its own headaches. The last thing we need is to create another potential enemy on our frontier. I'll have the council advise the future king to break the land up into small chunks. Hopefully that will avoid a repetition of history.]

There was a knock at the door, followed by Leo's voice. "My lord. The Marshal is here and requests a meeting."

[A little faster than I expected.]

"Let him in."

His aide opened the door and guided the distinguished guest in, before taking his place slightly behind and to the left of the Count's chair. Emmanuel sat on the other side of the desk, a rueful smile appearing on his face once he realized that the simple stool was not only uncomfortable, but a little shorter than the Count's own seat.

"Thank you for seeing me." The mage started, obviously unbothered by the cheap provocation. "I apologize for seeking you out so soon after the battle, but I felt that it was prudent to do so now."

"Not at all. My own contributions pale in comparison to your own, Lord Marshal." The Count replied simply, the shadow of a gracious smile on his lips. "I am amazed that you even had the time or energy to visit me after leading a strike force into the heart of the enemy. Surely you must have overcome terrible odds to not only survive, but defeat the Lacotian leadership."

This earned him a frown from Emmanuel. "While my group might have succeeded in eliminating the surviving necromancers, and did assist in mopping up the remaining pockets of undead, the credit for bringing the enemy to an end lies with my student. Which is something you should be well aware of."

The Count's smile grew slightly before disappearing. "That's a matter for some debate. As the Marshal, aren't you responsible for both the successes and failures of your subordinates? Surely there is no harm in accepting your well-deserved accolades."

"I'm not here to bandy words with you, Count, so let me cut to the chase. What's your game?"

Count Graveston took a moment to stare into the mage's determined eyes, before glancing away in disinterest. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is there something in particular that you are asking about?"

"Hmph. Fine. Then let me make it clear. I'm talking about Mike. The central figure to this whole drama. While some people seem to have forgotten how he ended up here, I did not. It was your recommendation that brought him into the University, and it was your plan that got him involved in this conflict."

"Of all the things to ask me about...Very well, what is your question?"

"Who is he, really? I've done my research, and, according to accounts from the Order of the Wheel, he was on the low side of Tier 1 just a few months ago. Judging from the light show that concluded this particular battle, its probably safe to assume that he's broken through to Tier 4."

The Marshal paused for a few seconds, as if to try and read the Count's face after delivering that bit of news. Regardless of what he saw, he soon continued. "I'm sure you are aware, but that kind of advancement is abnormal, even if one considers his...his background. So I have to ask, who is he? Where did you find him? What did you plan by bringing him to the fore in this manner?"

For the first time in what felt like weeks, the Count laughed. "While I would love to claim responsibility for this master stroke, in truth, his advancement caught me by surprise as well."

Emmanuel leaned back, looking unconvinced.

"It's the truth. I suspected that he had a great deal of potential when he resolved the demon situation in Wyrport. Even with the Hero title, which you seem so adverse to mentioning, such a feat was quite impressive. I had thought to bring him into my employ, or at the very least make him indebted to me, but I ultimately decided not to. Instead, I merely pointed him in this direction. I had a hunch that he would be helpful in dealing with the current crisis, although I never expected that he would solve it so thoroughly."

The mage frowned for a moment. "I see."

"Unfortunately, I cannot share much more. What am I without my secrets, after all? I will, however, point out one thing that you've probably already come across, but may not recognize the significance. My estranged son encountered Mike while on patrol with the Order of the Wheel. He was being chased naked through the woods by a large carnivore, and claimed to be suffering from amnesia."

"Are you implying..."

The Count raised his finger before continuing. "Coincidentally, the same day Mike was found, a massive surge of magical energy struck the central continent, destroying many of the more sensitive magic devices employed by the mage's guild."

Emmanuel blinked, a look of sudden realization on his face. "That's...is that possible?...I see. Thank you for letting me know."

The mage stood slowly, obviously lost in contemplation. "I'll take my leave now. You've given me much to think about."

Once the door had closed behind the Marshal, the Count spoke, "Leo, has Morris arrived yet?"

"I believe he has, my lord. He should be waiting on deck."

"Send him in, I have something I need to discuss with him."

Leo bowed and left, soon returning with the younger Graveston in tow.

"Father, what's this all about? I have a legion of things I need to take care of still." Morris complained bitterly as soon as he walked in.

The Count waited for his aide to depart once more, before turning towards his son. "The army can wait. You have generals and officers for this exact purpose. If you haven't learned how to delegate yet, then they'll just have to muddle through without you."

Morris gritted his teeth, and looked like he was about to explode. After a few seconds, he sighed and strode over to the small window overlooking the river. "Fine. What do you want?"

[Hmm, he's getting better at controlling his temper.]

"I have a task for you that will take you out of country. Tie up any loose ends you might still have here, and be prepared to leave on short notice."

"Eh?! You can't be serious! This is too sudden."

The Count frowned. "I am giving you as much time as you should need. If you cannot take care of your business quickly, then it will have to wait until your return. Now, I suggest you get started."

Morris's mouth worked a few times in silence, before he simple grunted and stormed out.

[That takes care of one issue. Now for the rest.] The Count thought, allowing a brief moment of despondency to take hold of him.

However, it quickly passed, and he was soon back to work.