Chapter 70 You Can Count On It.

  Flynn Thronsen frantically dug through his wife’s purse, that was three times as big on the inside as it was on the outside, for the emergency potion that she kept on hand. The one that he kept had been stolen away by whatever shadow and death creature had invaded their previous battle. “Why the hells is there an entire change of clothes here!” He quietly swore as he threw an entire modest dress out of his wife’s purse and onto the ground.

  He finally found the potion and ripped it out of the bag. He grasped it so tightly in both hands that his knuckles turned white. He ripped the cork out with his teeth and dumped its entire contents into his wife’s mouth. Beatrix awoke in a coughing fit as pure elderberry and amaranth absolutely assaulted her taste buds.

  “Thank Halya!” Flynn cried as he clutched his wife in his arms. “I thought I’d lost you.” He sobbed into her.

  “Flynn.” She gasped out and rapidly patted him to let her go. “Cant, breathe.”

  “What?” Flynn asked and let her go enough to see her face. Beatrix gasped and then was sent into another coughing fit. “Oh, sorry. Breathe.” He told her and started rubbing her back.

  “You.” A dark, dominating, and utterly foreboding voice resonated through all of existence. Everyone except for the flaming knight snapped their heads to look at the origin point of the voice. “Come.” The black clad figure resting upon a black throne, that was barely lit in flickering orange light from one of the discarded torches, ordered.

  Flynn cried out in surprise while Beatrix screamed, despite her coughing fit, as they were forcefully pulled across the ground for a full fifteen feet until they were in front of the figure and his throne. The nobles had arrived in anything but graceful positions as they had fallen over in transit. “Wha-” Flynn began but never got the chance to finish.

  “Silence.” The Lord of all that is Dark ordered the nobleman. Shadows wrapped around Flynn’s mouth and cut his voice off before anyone could hear it. “You will only speak when I allow it.” He told the marquess and marchioness.

  At such a close distance, the nobles could see that the Lord of Darkness sat casually with an ankle resting on the opposing knee and his head propped up by his fist with the corresponding elbow resting on an obsidian arm rest. His lazy, almost bored, posture really drove home exactly how beneath him they were at that very moment. His free hand gestured towards them and they were forcefully moved into sitting positions with the tops of their feet and their knees on the cold, hard, stone ground. Beatrix looked like she was about to cry out when shadows wrapped around her mouth to silence her as well.

  The Lord of Darkness stared down at the nobles at his feet with disdain, and a look that screamed of a god looking down on the ants that ran under mortals’ feet. “One of you is going to explain,” He began and looked between the husband and wife. “everything.” He told them. “The other,” He looked between them both again. “will be punished for every lie that is spoken.” His eyes narrowed on Flynn with an intensity that dared him to try anything. “Will it be you who speaks?” His gaze panned back to Beatrix. “Or you?”

  The husband and wife both looked at each other with wide eyes. Flynn nodded towards Isaac while maintaining eye contact with his wife. It was clear that he meant for her to be the one to speak. Beatrix shook her head in a panic. It was just as clear that she was terrified of speaking lest she miss speak and spell his doom.

  Darkness grinned. “Boy.” Darkness spoke as if he was an ancient warrior talking to a child that was running around with a real dagger. “You will be the one to speak. Tell me about how you became entangled with the Civil Servant Company.” He then removed the shadows from Flynn’s mouth.

  Flynn’s wide eyes looked like they were going to roll out of his head. At first he thought that the dark figure was just another combatant that had flipped the tables on them but once the combat was over, the situation had been entirely redesigned. And it was, in fact, a redesign. Flynn knew who the Lord of Darkness was but it had taken him a moment to put the name with the being who crushed the status quo like a volcanic eruption. The stories that he had heard about the man were so completely mixed that he had no idea what to expect until he was looking up at him. Flynn knew that he had to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth or else he would risk his wife being subjected to only the gods knew what. Flynn had heard stories of the Lord of Darkness throwing an ancient drow paladin around like a child’s doll. He had heard of his voice that resonated like a dragon’s. He had heard of his willingness to help the oppressed but he had also heard of him disintegrating someone with a touch. Flynn had once thought that much of those things had been exaggerated, but now that the being was in front of him, he knew better.

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  “Begin,” Darkness instructed the marquess. “immediately.”

  Flynn swallowed hard. “Y-yes.” His voice squeaked. Yes, the court trained, younger middle aged, moderate level nobleman’s voice literally squeaked like a preteen boy’s. “Right away, Your Grace.” He began with a bow of his head. “It started when my father announced his retirement.”

  —

  Isaac was incredibly bored as he listened to the marquess’s story go on and on. At one point, Isaac felt like was going to fall asleep so he flashed a little bit of death flames in his brain to help energize himself and clear his head a bit. The marquess had shivered when he did so and Isaac couldn’t help but smirk slightly in amusement. Was what he was doing considered ‘bad person behavior’, probably. Did Isaac care? Definitely not. He might’ve cared if they were normal people. Even Isaac had his limits where he just felt bad for bullying people unnecessarily. The marquess that specifically worked with the CSC to sell out his own city and country for profit was not one of the people that Isaac would feel bad for bullying.

  Loyalty meant a lot to Isaac. He knew that it could be bought, earned, or given freely. He also knew that it could not be taken. Isaac had often made it a habit of buying people’s loyalty. He used deals and coercion to buy a little bit of it but would then lock it in place with deeds and returned loyalty. If anyone looked back at almost all of his relationships, it would be quite clear that it was Isaac’s primary way of making friends and minions. People like the marquess, someone who had a duty to protect all of those that were loyal to him, and the kingdom of which he helped rule, but decided to sell out for personal gain, those people just irritated him. He hadn’t liked Topaz and he certainly didn’t like the duo kneeling at his feet. Even so, he sat through the incredibly long story with as much patience as he could muster. He had an image to keep after all.

  After about ten minutes of the marquess rambling on about his history with the CSC, and how they helped him solidify his power once he and his wife had taken over the territory, Isaac decided to let the marchioness regain circulation in her legs. He could see her pained expression and knew from experience that the position that he had put them in was anything but comfortable. With a simple gesture her shadows broke apart and drifted away, all except for the ones covering her mouth anyway. The woman collapsed to the side and started rubbing her legs to get feeling in them again.

  Five minutes after the marchioness was freed from her position, Isaac raised a pair of bars to separate the nobles and then released the marquess as well. The man hadn’t even changed his cadence as he shifted into a cross-legged position. By that time, the Magistrate, his two assistants, and Lenna joined them. The Court Mage was still entirely unconscious but she was breathing so that was good enough for Isaac.

  In all, it took around forty minutes for the marquess to explain every mildly important event that led up to their current point. Isaac had learned about how the marquess’s sister had one day changed. She was much more outgoing and seemed to like visiting the CSC office often. At first he thought that it was a good thing but then she started hanging around with the new Court Mage. The Court Mage had been brought in when the old one, a man who was positively ancient before he finally decided to retire, had finally resigned from his post. The new Court Mage was rarely ever available when she was needed but she always took them to and from the capital for holidays so the marquess and his wife never complained too much. They were aware of her endless experiments but they were never sure exactly what kinds of alchemical experiments she was up to.

  The Court Mage’s wizard tower was actually the reason why the tunnels turned so much. There was an exterior greenhouse in the estate that most would just see in passing. It was actually the roof of her tower that ran into the ground. The greenhouse was generally a very toxic place to be in so not even the gardeners ever went inside. The tower itself opened up into a multi-floored underground complex once it was below the surface. It was generally safer to build wide underground instead of deep as magic could reinforce the supports but if one went too deep they threatened to catch the attention of a tunnel horror.

  The marquess had just assumed that the two had become friends at some point but upon seeing his sister start casting spells at the magistrate, the marquess had instead suspected that the Court Mage had been teaching her magic off the books. Apparently the Court Mage had also insisted on upgrading the defensive wards in the estate, but only the marquess’s sister seemed to know exactly how, which had only further given credence to the marquess’s theory of the Court Mage being her teacher.

  Isaac also learned that the marquess was actively using the Guard Captain to help the CSC gain more control over the city. The marquess was actually limited by law as to the amount of businesses he could own in his own city. That limit meant that, if he wanted to actually own them, he would need someone else to openly own them. The CSC actually secretly bought out three of the major businesses in the Vespera Merchants Association and used them to finish locking down most of the commercial district. They used some of the local gangs as enforcers and used them to drive smaller businesses into the ground or force medium sized ones to sell out. Apparently, the marquess had been trying to find a way to get rid of the Magistrate for a long time. He knew that the Guild Master was in a constant state of overwork and as long as everything continued as it had been, the Guild Master would never have enough free time or available mental fortitude to investigate anything that was going on. Even if he did, the marquess was certain that his CSC contacts had something in mind for taking care of, or at least silencing, the Guild Master, though the marquess had no idea what those measures were.

  In the end, the marquess had confessed to dozens of accounts of corruption as well as ‘lethal resistance to an attempted arrest’, so many in fact that the Magistrate had to take him and his wife to see the king. Only the king could pass proper judgment on them and it would not just be a simple fine or slap on the wrist. The marquess knew what would happen once he started talking but the risk of his wife being tortured was simply too much for him to do anything else.

  Finally, when the marquess had finished the story, Isaac turned his head slightly and his eyes met the Magistrate’s. “Can you, and your three remaining soldiers, handle the marquess from now on?” He asked the older man.

  “Three?” The Magistrate asked with some surprise before his eyes widened in realization. “Erik survived then?”

  “My mate is prone to helping those in need.” Isaac replied with a glance towards Lenna.

  The Magistrate bowed towards Lenna. “Thank you, once again, Lady V’Nova. We owe you a great debt.”

  Lenna nodded to his thanks. “You can pay it back by cleaning up this mess, before you retire.” She told him.

  The Magistrate’s eyes hardened with renewed resolve. “I will, Lady V’Nova, you can count on it.”

  Amaranth Serentia V'Nova Wexler