另类小说人亚洲小说

Chapter 558 - 558 Council of Mystics



Seriously, hadn’t he heard of System Inventory? Or maybe his System didn’t start with it enabled.

“You killed my cousin.” he said. “Two sieges ago.”

“I think you mean last siege.” I said. “When Rakkal broke through the front gate?”

He shook his head. “That was two sieges ago, not one.”

Well crap. That had ominous implications.

“Are you here to declare blood vengeance?” I asked.

He was too close, I wouldn’t have time to grab a shield.

“Not yet. Didn’t want you to get the wrong idea if you saw me staring at you.”

.....

“Okay.” I said. “Thank you for your honesty. It is a rare, and appreciated, gift.”

His eyes went wider, his lips curled back in a snarl. “That was no gift! It was a warning!”

“It was also the truth.” I said, tapping my chest. “From the heart. So thank you.”

He made a disgusted noise, and turned away.

An adolescent hobgoblin moved in from my left. “That looked interesting.” she said.

“It has that potential.” I said.

“If I asked, would you keep me informed?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Usually, things like that fester, exploding without other warning.”

Or had it just been that I’d been ignorant of the warning signs?

“Pity.” she said. “My name is Thayr. Seek me out if you want poison... or dancing lessons.”

I squinted. “That is a male name.”

“Mom didn’t want a daughter. Keeps telling me I’ll turn out just like she did.”

I adjusted my position on the seat. “She must be quite accomplished, to have attended such a meeting.”

She chuckled, but also moved off.

I took note of the mystics, already two dozen, and more filing in. There wouldn’t be enough room. I moved to take a corner space, shoulders resting against the solid comfort of stone.

<My master warns you anyone with an earth elemental can easily throttle you.> one of the walls sent.

<Please thank your master for the warning.> I said.

What the heck? I had enough mana for eight hours of [Mystic Vision].

My vision lit up in all the colors of the rainbow, and I needed my reticule to identify the individual auras. I was the least protected person in that room, in spite of the comfortable weight of chainmail.

The weapons, so lovely, exuding their red for the forbidden blood magic. Others fiery orange or the white-gray of the mountain peaks. None, I noticed, blue of the sea or rivers. Staves and wands and knives, mostly. But one scimitar, bound to the Clouds and Storms.

With a slight smile (possibly a smirk), I decided to be on my best behavior. I set [Diplomat] as my dominant title; no sense in hiding useful advantages.

“Is that everyone?” asked an elderly human. Not the one I’d expected to be speaker for our meeting, but his mystic defenses were thorough. I decided I’d listen when he spoke.

“Seems to be.” said the uruk lad who’d come to me earlier.

I took a quick look around the room. Youths. People in the spring and summer of their lives. Very few gray hairs, and almost no whites. Their eyes were sharp, lit from within the way the young and inquisitive were. But very few elderly, experienced visages.

But what the hell, I was six. Pots and kettles and all that.

“My name,” the human said, “Is Pilatus Gemm. I am an Air Mage and Enchanter, and I have been asked to help keep our discussions orderly.”

“By whom?” asked a fat lady, more Cook in appearance than Conjurer.

“By mayor Hortiluk himself.” Pilatus said. “He maintains dream contact with myself and others.”

A few heads nodded at this. Mostly not heads I would have guessed. Appearances were just not good indicators of mystic ability.

Wait. MAYOR Hortiluk. I filed it away for later.

All told, there were twenty nine bodies in that room, and the astral space was perhaps half and again as packed. I had time to note whom they clustered around before the meeting continued.

There followed a short brief, for those who... okay, for most of them. The squad, for it was only the one, was skirmishing along seemingly random sections of wall. They would stay only for a minute or so, and leave as they were wounded. No less than three hours later, they would return, fully healed.

To me, that said potions rather than a dedicated healer, but both options were put forward by others.

Of more concern was that they were striking inside the wards.

“Are we certain they aren’t already inside the wards?” the cook asked. “I hear about flying well above normal heights and new magics and forbidden dimensions. Have any of you dolts considered that Sunlight Step doesn’t require line of sight, only that the sun be shining on the destination?”

What? No, that couldn’t be right. Weren’t all teleportations....

[Sunlight Step] wasn’t line of sight. Or rather, not DIRECT line of sight. Combined with [Eye of the Sun]...

I was an idiot. We were, all of us, idiots.

I slid down the walls.

“Well, how do we find them?” boomed out a male voice. “The sun shines on the entire city.”

“Sunlight Step doesn’t have an infinite range.” I said. “And they need to be replacing their Sun mana somehow.”

“There are suitable gardens and open areas throughout the city.” objected Thayr.

I closed my eyes to think. Our soldiers recognized the enemy. I pulled up the System Images of their... huh, already degrading. It was as if...

<System. Abilities and System Modules. Limit by Effect. Degrade Images.>

There were eight different methods of accomplishing that.

[Direct System to System manipulation detected.] my System told me.

Well. Laughing. Gods.

So we had at least one traitor in the room. Given the number of people, I shouldn’t be surprised.

The cost of improving my System defenses was, as all things System, prohibitive.

I opened my eyes. I’d need them for what was to come.

Common sense would tell you that sunstone was used to store Sun mana, or Sun faith, if one is a stickler for accurate terminology. But rubies and clear stones (to include quartz, although it was the low end of the spectrum) were actually better. Eventually, we determined magic wouldn’t be able to locate them so quickly as just having soldiers who’d seen the enemy at those places most attuned to the Sun within the city, and following them back to their base.

All in all, the meeting went relatively smoothly. Nobody got turned into a swan, or cursed so they could only speak in Thari. There was no broken furniture, no fire damage to the room, no plague of locusts fluttering aimlessly about. Nobody had been poisoned, or exposed to experimental potions (without their consent, at least), and if anyone was on mind-altering substances, it was subtle enough that I was unaware of it.

That said, I didn’t actually check using my Lifeshaper abilities. I cured (killed) one cancerous wart on the back of a shoulder, and removed two sexual diseases before realizing I’d be at it all day to get them all. But mainly, I confirmed I was the only shape shifter in the room; everyone had worn more or less their actual form, with a few cosmetic illusions in place.

It was quick, also. We lingered long enough to get a free lunch, but the mystery solved, Pilatus declared the meeting over. And as people will do, they hung around gossiping with each other four hours. Yes, four, the number. It was only when the announcement that we weren’t getting dinner for free as well that people started leaving in numbers, breaking into groups.

I adjusted my [Diplomat] title, which had gotten slightly off center. <1 >

My stealth skills were sufficient to escape at that point.

I rubbed my fingers against my eyes. In retrospect, it seemed so simple.

It was more complicated to meld Celestial Heavens faith, which I’d been doing for years. Now it was on the soldiers, to distribute the knowledge and handle the enemy soldiers using physical methods.

And yes, the whole thing was a waste of resources. There are mages who know how to fight and warriors who knew a bit of magic, but the true warrior adepts were few and far between. Even if only half...

Ah, but the Thorn had a nation to pull candidates from.

Which begged another question. Why now? What did they gain by hiding these elite soldiers? Or by revealing them now?

Sieges, although not glorious, are fairly certain things. After a few months, the defender is out of food, decimated by diseases, mentally and emotionally spent. They literally can no longer fight, and usually their commander surrenders at that point.

We were not anywhere close to that, one damaged section of wall being the exception.

So what WAS the enemy’s plan?

Hobgoblins.

We were supposed to be chasing this squad, instead of something else.

Something important.

<1 > Some day, I’ll need to produce a counter-book to Laconius’ “A Man of Many Hats: Titles, and How to Use and Abuse Them”. They aren’t just the pick and done things he presents them to be. However, a disturbing number of his Titles as Hats analogies are surprisingly accurate.

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