Vive la révolution! Long live the revolution! Power for the people!
I cheered inside as the people took matters on their own hands and did brutal and cruel justice to the overlords of the city. The heirs to the Baron were hanged. The new magistrate and other city officials killed by an angry mob with spears. I was disappointed that they had no pitchforks but this world was a brutal one. Every farr knew how to wield a spear and so pitchforks had spearheads on the other side of the haft.
Lord Ackerton was miraculously spared. Our family by association. It was partly because we had Temple Knights guarding our gates and Bundeus' clergy was fueling the flas of revolution.
But I wouldn't put it beneath the Master to have a lot of his [Assassins] undercover working as agitators within the mob. Probably collecting contracts left and right as he put the competition out and settled old grudges. Why would the [Assassins] leave such tasty morsels of Exp to escape their grasp?
In a world with a ga-like system like this, a most peculiar phenonon happened. People leveled. The crowd leveled. There were many deaths on both sides but the crowd's average level rose by almost a dozen during the weeks of the revolution.
Things settled after there were no more targets to loot. The mob was driven by equal parts of justice and greed. Fights for the right to squat on abandoned mansions while the blood of the forr masters stained the floorboards caused more deaths. But soon things settled in place.
Three months after the Baron's demise, the army arrived. A swift mobilization to march here given how long news takes to travel back and forth.
A magical spell caused a man's tenor voice to be heard over the whole city.
"By His Majesty King Argantry IV's will and command, the city of Kenan is under martial law. All people are to remain at ho. We are conducting searches for agitators and traitors among you."
The army conducted a purge through the city. Their criteria were their own. Most of the wealth the townsfolk looted from the wealthy found their way to the King's coffers through forceful thods. For the cri of revolting against the upper echelon, the city bled for the third ti.
It would've been worse. Fate or happenstance, the suppression force arrived at the start of the harvest season. Several "criminals" were condemned to slavery to work in the fields.
Those that died or were enslaved were the innocent or unwary. The smart ones, those with a few more Attribute points in Mind, or those that saw it happen before, had long left the city with their ill-gotten wealth.
The urban population, especially one with a mindset tainted by the dream of freedom and agency over their own lives, was a danger to the status quo. One that demanded dirt [Farrs] and impoverished craftspeople to fuel an abusive economy.
We were untouched. Lord Ackerton was declared the city's new ruler. A garrison of soldiers would work as peacekeepers while the new Lord asserted his control over the fief, funded by egregious amounts of coin from the new aristocrat's coffers.
Of the assassin guild mbers, all but a selected few went on vacation or undercover work far away from prying eyes. Lord Ackerton's new rule would see a sharp decrease in mysterious murders. Of those that still happened, those would be massively concentrated on his detractors and adversaries.
It felt as if Al Capone beca governor of Illinois instead of going to jail for tax evasion. Well, things were different. Lord Ackerton was more than eager to fund the army with wealth extracted from the bloody hands of those that died during the revolution. What the people stole and later went to the army were pennies to the dollar compared to what the guild took.
The new Baron had to travel to the capital to get his conferred by the King. He didn't go alone. No. He took his guards, his trusted right-hand woman, and his two lovely adopted daughters along with a full complent of servants.
Yes, Anjou and I were with Lord Ackerton and Gloria in a carriage in the middle of a well-guarded caravan inbound for the capital.
My niece was a volcano of excitent and glee. She was going to beco nobility.
Three weeks on the road with an overexcited and squealing teenager. A caravan moved at the speed of an armored man on foot. Not all guards had horses. The logistics of making and breaking camp ant fewer hours on the road. So Skills and perks gave an incrental bonus to speed but that was just a minor boost.
Anjou and I shared a tent. With the lack of a suitable conversation partner, the girl settled with . I won by W.O.
"I don't know how you can't understand what's about to happen to us! We are going to the capital! Frequent the King's court! Walk among the noble ladies! Get invited to balls, tea parties, afternoon tea, watch gladiators fight!
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on . Report any occurrences.
"And I am so glad we are out of that backwater town! Oh, Apricot, you can't imagine how much I suffered. Just because two of my suitors were diabolists, people said the most heinous lies about ! I'm glad to be rid of them."
I gave her my best "you're welco" smile.
"But we are going to drown in suitors. I'll pass those I deem unfit for to you."
She droned on the whole night. Every night. If anyone told her she was tornting and sleeping next to a level sixty-seven [Assassin], she might behave and be less annoying, but nobody did.
We reached the capital and Lord Ackerton bought a mansion in the noble district. Baron Hendra didn't have one. Nenandil told the house had two hidden basent levels, according to the amount of small blood bags living underneath, probably rodents.
The capital was a marvel of engineering. A massive aqueduct ran in from the north bringing fresh water from unpolluted sources. It was enchanted to keep the water clean. North was also where the Royal Palace was, a collection of pyramidal ziggurat-like buildings with tall towers at the four corners. I hoped no ancient sorcerer mummies were living inside. I had no eye sword.
The architecture resembled a blend of Greek and sopotamian. Building materials were a mix of sandstone blocks and chiseled marble on the rich sections, and wattle-and-daub on the middle-class area. The tropolis was planned with square blocks and wide roads where two carriages could walk abreast. An enormous shantytown shacked outside the south wall, extending organically for a mile around the sewage river that ran out of the city.
One night, a few days after we'd settled down and finally washed all the gri from the road, I sat down with the Master to talk. Just the two of us.
"Is your niece sleeping?" He asked.
"Yes. Nenandil is watching her."
He scratched his chin. "You need to keep that fairy hidden. There are people here that will try to steal her from you. An archmage recently found a way to enslave fairies. Once it becos widespread, I fear people will start to hunt them."
"Can he steal a perk? Can anyone steal perks?" I asked with a scientific interest in the subject. A perk lost was a disaster that would last for all my future lives, a perk gained was a profit for all lives. I was playing the second-longest ga in this world, losing only to the gods.
"No. That should be impossible."
"Good then. I'm safe even if discovered but I'll exercise caution."
"She's a perk?"
"No. She's bound to by a perk. Not even death can separate us."
"Amazing. You were really born with a blessing of traits."
"And you don't know half of them," I said absentmindedly. I hurried to correct , "Sorry, not a threat."
"Don't worry," He gave a fatherly smile. "By the way, you are making quite the reputation on two fronts."
I looked up, clearing the sha of my previous blunder away from my face. "What?"
"The Death Princess and the Demon-Hunting {Hero}. Both are making the rounds in the rumor grapevine around the capital."
There was an injustice here. I focused my spirit inwards and sent a ntal ssage.
Reviews
All reviews (0)