The boy leaves his sword at Durkil’s throat for a beat longer, watching Ellison’s reaction.
Ellison’s mouth was still slightly agape—his mind racing.
This was a newly inducted world, aning it was very unlikely he was level 25. aning his class was yet to evolve.
Yet, despite his healer’s robes, he moved with the speed and precision of a Level 20 agility specialist.
And he carries a Spirit Weapon—a beautiful blue blade that sang when he raised it to Durkil’s throat. Spirit Weapons were rare, spoken of in rumors, and seeing one in the hands of this young man made Ellison’s skin prickle. Does the boy even know what he has?
To be fair, Ellison is only really aware of rumors about such things. He is ready to burst into questions one by one.
Now isn’t the ti for that though. Composing himself he finally speaks, forcing his voice to be steady.
“I… yes. Yes, I think you’ve more than proven you weren’t bluffing.”
He takes a breath, straightening. “Thank you for accommodating our request.”
Not only was this young man not bluffing, but he was beyond anything Ellison imagined. Was this the boon of a newly inducted world? Would there be more like him? More monsters—like Layton and his strange feline companion?
No, he doubts that would be the case. Ellison knows, without a shadow of a doubt, if Layton had co in sword swinging–him and every Guildian would be dead.
But instead? Layton was cordial–a bit strange–but seemingly honest. Ellison tries to find the hidden angle. His instincts tell him there must be so nefarious motive. But what was it?
Ellison scrutinizes the boy standing in front of him. The wind tousles his mottled brown hair. His active piercing blue eyes, a simple grey cloak and strange white shoes on his feet. He fights with a light blue spirit weapon that pulses with power, a unique contrast to his easy unassuming persona.
Layton doesn’t have the look of a scher. His re presence seems so…normal? No that wasn’t it. It is just natural.
His people had fought and died to secure this territory. It was theirs, they had earned it. Ellison looks at them now. Standing watching anxiously, trusting his judgent to lead them. He cast a silent prayer to the system and made his decision.
“As a show of good faith, I will transfer ownership of this territory to you and rge our faction with yours.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
The boy blinks.
“Really?” He shakes his head. “I was actually going to suggest that you et with Jared—our steward—before making any big decisions.”
Ellison raises a brow. Inwardly he was flummoxed. It's the right choice to wait. But Ellison knows he won’t change his mind either way. He opens his status toggles a bit the territory screen and makes the transfer official
“I appreciate the sentint, but I’ve made the decision I think is best.” Layton sees the notification and accepts.
It’s done. “You ntioned your Steward?”
“Yeah, he’s the one who actually knows what he’s doing.”
“You’ll still need to et with him so we can figure out how to integrate our people. We’ll also want to discuss securing the connecting territories.”
Ellison nods. “That sounds like a reasonable next step. We will wait here. Should we expect to see more of your people in the anti?”
“Mischief here has been scouting and hasn’t seen any.” With a glance Layton addresses his oversized feline companion. “That actually brings up a good point. If you run into another human, they’re probably not ours. Maybe I should leave soone here to avoid any… misunderstandings.”
Ellison’s expression darkens slightly. “That would be wise. Are you comfortable leaving your people with us?”
“It’s not I’m worried about.” He scratches his head. “How about this—I leave the whole group here, and I’ll just run and grab Jared myself? If I carry him, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
Ellison’s lips twitch in amusent. “Are you willing to carry your steward on your back?”
“He might complain, but yeah.”
“Then go. We are now all mbers of the sa faction, and we will behave as such.”
Satisfied, Ellison watches the boy smile, before he turns and jogs back up the hill where his people wait.
-
“Hold on.” Alex crosses his arms. “Let get this straight.”
He points at . “You went down there. Talked to the deer people. And sohow, in less than an afternoon, convinced them all to join our faction?”
I nod. “Well it’s not done yet, but it’s looking promising.”
“…And now you want us to just stay here? With them?” He gestures dramatically. “While you run off to get Jared?”
“Basically, yeah.”
Alex exhales, rubbing his temples. “I don’t even know why I bother being surprised anymore.”
Of course, Ben has sothing to say about it.
“Are you CRAZY?” The monster tar takes a step forward. “You want us to stay here with a group of alien deer people you just t? What if they change their minds and attack while you’re gone?”
“Ben.” I hold up a hand. “When have I ever steered you wrong?”
Ben gives a long, flat stare.
“…Do you want that list alphabetically or by disaster level?”
“Relax.” I grin. “I’m leaving Mischief here. Even if things did go south, you guys would be fine.”
Ben’s eyes flick to the massive feline.
Mischief yawns lazily.
Ben’s shoulders relax. “…Fine. But don’t dilly-dally.”
Elise snorts. “Dilly-dally? Seriously? What are you, sixty?”
Ben shoots her a deadpan look.
I smirk. “I solemnly swear—no dallying of any kind.” I turned, already preparing to sprint. “I’ll be back soon.”
And with that, I’m off.
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