Wild Era 2, Ch 31: Heads for the Baron

Verasun’s expression was a mask of cold fury as he looked down at the three heads on the table.

It had been two hours since they’d appeared in the city, but they’d only now been brought to him. It had taken a Level 180 mage to break the enchantments that held them in place in front of his doors.

His regular guards had tried to remove them and they had all failed. A mage he had on retainer as a tutor for his younger descendants had needed to be called in. 

If it had gone on any longer, Verasun would have had to go himself.

The heads had been protected by sturdy mana barriers and powered by high-tier mana crystals. The recordings had been playing for anyone walking past the entire time. 

It was hours of embarrassment, an insult to his name and title.

More importantly, his dealings with the Wind Hunters had been thrown into the public view, he’d been accused of creating dungeons, and Jaster had died under questioning, all of which implicated him.

The oath ring had done its job and killed the man before he could say anything, so the recording wasn’t absolute proof, but it was enough that people wouldn’t forget.

Especially with the grisly appearance of the heads stuck to his doorstep.

It didn’t directly reveal his secrets, but all of his careful work to hide his presence through proxies was threatened.

It required a swift and deadly response, something that would end the matter.

He’d already had a few of the most talkative locals arrested by the city guards for impugning a noble’s honor. They had been secretly transferred to his mansion and were enjoying a stay in his dungeon, one they were unlikely to survive.

He understood the streets of Highmist, so he hadn’t let anyone know who had arrested them or why. 

If he kept at it, it would scare the populace into obedience. They would know that people who spoke out about him were disappearing, and then they would fall silent.

He already knew they wouldn’t riot or cause much trouble. 

The desire to stay alive would ensure they knew their place and the rumors about him would begin to die down, hidden by his threat.

It wasn’t the first time he’d used the tactic.

The truth always fell in front of fear.

But he also knew they wouldn’t forget. The rumors would remain, whispered in corners and hushed alleys, events that he had no hand in would be pinned on him, and slowly his reputation would grow darker.

The next time something happened, even if he wasn’t behind it, it would blow up even hotter and burn for longer.

It was a subtle and long-term damage.

His fist landed on the table, surrounded by a field of lightning, and sent a blazing crack through the center. Only a quick mana field kept the heads from rolling away.

He let out a deep breath as he returned to calm. 

A wave of his hand repaired the table, fusing the two parts back together.

He already knew who had done it, that adventurer Kelin that he’d sent the Wind Hunters to deal with. 

He had already sent orders to blame Jaster’s death on Kelin and to frame the adventurer as a bandit himself, to say it was a clever attempt to frame him, to embarrass a noble because the adventurer could never achieve anything worthwhile in his own life, and a plot to tarnish his good name.

Unfortunately, the Seal of Silver Stars in the recording meant that it was difficult to make headway. 

It marked them as the truth.

All he could do was get the story out quickly and deal with those who spoke too much.

As for that adventurer, his followers had failed to take care of him, so the only choice left was to do it personally.

Ideally in a way that embarrassed him and made him a worthless source of information.

If he couldn’t win by holding the truth, he would win by other means.

That meant destroying the adventurer’s name.

Ideas for how to do that ran through his mind as he turned his attention to the heads. He wanted to know what he was dealing with.

The heads were still playing their recording and it seemed like it would continue until the enchantment was broken, so he ran his hand through the air above them, analyzing the mana present to get a sense of what he was dealing with.

He was a supreme mage, one at a level that only two or three others in Highmist could hold a candle to. 

He’d built his early reputation on pure power.

He had inherited the Storm Mage line of classes that his family was known for, strengthened it, and passed it down to his children. Now that he was at the Second Evolution, his strength was far beyond what any of his descendants had achieved. 

He was wary of traps, so he didn’t touch the heads. He scanned them as carefully as he would have a dungeon gate, making sure he didn’t trigger anything.

Almost immediately, he found the trap he expected. There was more than one.

Each of the heads had an enchantment to react to probes, and it seemed like they were attuned to lightning magic.

The adventurer knew he was a Storm Mage and planned for it? The idea made Verasun frown for a moment, but then he dismissed it. 

It would only have taken a few questions at the guild for Kelin to learn about it. It only meant he was an intelligent enemy.

The air around Verasun crackled with a protective lightning barrier as he continued to examine the heads. With each moment, his frown deepened.

The enchantments were more complicated than he’d expected. He had to admit that the work was exquisite. 

Every line was balanced and etched into a greater harmony, like runes formed by nature, and showed concepts of a deeper truth.

It was even more complex than some Third Evolution enchantments. The adventurer was either an excellent enchanter or he knew someone who was.

After a bit more study, however, a cold smile formed on Verasun’s lips as he found the core of the enchantment on the first head. 

A few minutes later, he found the same core on the other two. It was easy now that he’d seen it once.

Perhaps the adventurer wasn’t that clever after all. 

He must have found a complex enchantment from somewhere and repurposed it.

With a twist of lightning, Verasun broke all three cores at once, aiming to disintegrate the heads and the recording spell before they could cause any more trouble.

The heads and the mana crystals inside turned to ashes, but at the same time a spark of golden light surged up from each of them and flew toward him like arrows.

They struck a lightning barrier and disintegrated before they could move any farther, but the impact was considerable.

“Clever,” he muttered, shaking his head as he studied the remains of the hidden trap. It seemed to be a type of reactive rune that was hidden under the first layer. 

“Not enough to make you worth much time, but at least it’s something.”

At that moment, however, a wind stirred the dust that was left on the table, which shifted with strange patterns as it began to float into the air. 

He could sense the mana changing as it reformed into a different pattern.

“Another one?” he asked, starting to feel curious as he looked at it.

There shouldn’t have been anything left, but there was an affinity in the dust that he couldn’t place. It wasn’t part of the enchantment he’d just broken, but something else innate.

It reminded him of the undead and there was a sense of decay.

“From the mana crystals?” he determined as he frowned. “A second trap?”

He began a series of sensing spells, and after a few moments he determined that the dust also held traces of Bloodbreaker poison, an Epic-tier one that he was familiar with.

It was a favorite of the assassin’s guild.

It was also extremely dangerous and it made him double check whether any had gotten on him while he was examining the heads.

Bloodbreaker poison was a painful death, especially if it had somehow gotten past his defenses.

He hadn’t touched them, but he shook his head, feeling a sense of grudging respect as he pulled his hand back. Then he pulled out a powerful antidote potion and drank it.

Even if those heads had been coated in the poison, he hadn’t touched them and he shouldn’t have been affected, but there was no reason to risk it.

He continued to analyze the rest of the dust, but there was nothing else he could determine, so after a moment he gathered it all into a sphere of wind and sealed it into a metal jar, which he stored away.

There was still the same sense of undead energy lingering, so he took out a scroll that held a high-level Fire Purification spell and unleashed it across the room. 

The scroll expanded into a field of white and blue flames that incinerated the lingering energy.

He studied the area for a moment as he decided on the next steps. Eventually, he came to a decision. He headed to his writing desk, where he sat down and began composing a formal letter.

Then he rang for his butler. 

A few moments later, the man appeared, bowing low.

“Issue this proclamation to the adventurer known as Kelin and to the guild,” he said, handing the scroll to the man.

“Red ink, my lord?” the butler looked at the parchment in shock. “But that...”

“Silence,” Verasun said as his mana field fell on the man, making his knees tremble as his words were cut short. 

“Deliver it.” His order was brief and cold. “Gold cord, the traditional method. Sometimes you have to do things yourself.”

The butler shook as he recovered. Then he bowed without any more questions and withdrew, holding the parchment gingerly in his hands, as if it were something precious.
Verasun tapped his fingers on his desk with a cold expression.

It wasn’t his first choice, but this was the best way he had of dealing with the adventurer. 

It would let him destroy his name and be a show of force to everyone else in the city at the same time.

Between this and eliminating the rumors, things should slowly return to normal, even if he was unhappy with how many bribes it was going to take.

***

Half the night had passed, but Kelin didn’t hesitate as he walked through the guild, heading for Sandren’s office.

She didn’t need to sleep much and was usually on night duty, so it was as good a time as any.

At that moment, he paused as he felt the enchantments he’d made trigger. A distant series of mana impressions came to him, carried by a faint connection.

Verasun had moved fairly quickly, but it was within his expectations, and a brief smile flickered across his lips.

He’d added half a dozen layered enchantments to those heads, including some that would only trigger if they were destroyed, if lightning magic hit them, and if they were all together in the presence of a Second Evolution mana field.

A tracery of soul magic had ensured that he targeted Verasun and no one else. He hadn’t met the baron, but he had met his daughter, and that was close enough for him to get a sense of the family’s aura.

As far as the guild records knew, there was no other Second Evolution member of the Crest family, so that was what he’d set the enchantments to target.

He wondered how the baron was enjoying the lich ashes he’d added to the heads and the decay affinity in the mana crystals that powered the spell, as well as the Bloodbreaker poison he’d added on top.

They were all decoys, just ways to make the baron unsettled. The real enchantment was the soul mark he’d hidden in them.

Those marks often made people feel self-conscious and distracted, even if they didn’t realize they were there, so he’d given the baron some reasons to explain why he felt that way.

There was a new awareness in his mind of the man now, where the mark had found its target. It was similar to the one he’d put on Yaris once, to track him through the city, but not as strong.

It was a subtle thing, but it was fueled by a touch of Endless Flame and it would persist, growing slowly stronger over time as it settled into the baron’s soul.

A few days should be enough for it to become permanent.

Then the next step would begin.

Verasun was the last enemy he needed to deal with in Highmist, and with that mark, the end was in sight. 

The number of ways he could use it were almost endless.

The man’s level meant it would take longer for it to develop than with someone at the First Evolution, and it would be harder to trigger Soul Ignition, but enough time would fix that.

Instead of continuing toward Sandren, he found a secluded room and he spent the next couple of hours subtly reinforcing the mark, making sure that it would settle in and grow stronger.

He was tired as he stood up again and his soul energy was only at the halfway point, but it was recovering. 

It was difficult to transfer soul energy across a distance at this level, and a lot of it was lost maintaining the connection, but the soul mark was stronger, which was what mattered.

He pushed the fatigue aside as he resumed his walk to Sandren’s office. 

When he arrived, it was close to dawn and the door was already open. The captain was sitting behind her desk in her usual pose, with her boots on top. 

She looked good, but she was frowning with worry as she stared at the door. A sheet of rolled parchment was in her hand. A golden cord was tied around it, making it look ornate and official.

It seemed like she’d been waiting for a while.

“Were you expecting me?” he asked with a smile as he walked in.

“Kelin!” she said immediately, her attention locking onto him. She jumped to her feet, her boots slamming onto the floor, and leaned across her desk. “Why did you do that?!”

She looked worried as she raised the parchment in her hand, but he couldn’t read it from this angle.

It seemed she’d heard about the heads.

“Punishment,” he replied with a slightly wicked smile. “Verasun must learn he is subject to judgment. Noble or not, wealthy or not, he is only a man.”

Putting heads on someone’s doorstep wasn’t his usual method, and there was a lot to object to about it, but it was evocative. It wasn’t something Verasun or the people in the city would forget anytime soon.

It was also symbolic. 

Blood and death were on the baron’s doorstep, and now lifeless eyes witnessed what he had done. His crimes had come home to him.

Was it arrogant to drop heads on an enemy’s doorstep? 

Of course. 

He was the Lord of Wildfire. No one had ever said he was humble. They only trembled when they heard his name.

Verasun had hounded him for a long time. Finally acting against him had eased something in Kelin’s heart. 

It was a way of settling a debt.

“He’s challenged you to a duel to the death!” Sandren snapped as she threw the parchment at him. “Three days from now!”

Kelin caught the parchment out of the air, but his response wasn’t what she expected.

“Did he?” he asked, chuckling slightly. “That’s about what I expected.”

He was calm as he unrolled the scroll and read what it contained. 

It wasn’t much, just an ornate description of time, place, and a duel to the death, with the baron’s stamp and an official seal of the city on it. It was a little sooner than he’d thought, but it was within his estimate.

When he was finished, he rolled the scroll back up and tucked it away in his spatial ring. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, yawning as he changed the topic. “Let’s go for a walk and see what’s available. There should be some street vendors out early for breakfast.”

Sandren wasn’t so composed.

“Don’t try to change the topic!” she snapped, her expression a mix of anger and frustration. “You don’t know what this means! It’s a duel challenge. It’s how the nobles here kill commoners who get on their bad side. It’s practically a legal execution!” 

“It will be alright,” Kelin said, smiling again as he held out his hand. “Come on, let’s walk.”

Sandren glared at his hand but then she threw her arms up in the air as she walked around the table.

“Fine,” she said. “Let’s walk. I can’t sit here any longer. And on the way, I’ll try to figure out how to get you out of this.”

It didn’t take them long to get out into the city. 

A few people moved slowly along the streets as they began to start their day, but the night was still present and the stars were brightly shining.

In a few minutes, dawn would start to grace the sky, but for now it was quiet and dark.

“I’ll teleport you away and that will be the end of it,” Sandren said decisively. Her mood improved at the idea and she looked more optimistic. “That’s the simplest solution.”

“No need,” Kelin replied as they headed out of the guild. “I have other plans.”

“Kelin...” Sandren reached out and grabbed his shoulder as she froze. She quickly analyzed him, the energy like a tingle across his skin, and then shook her head. 

“Look, I know you’re a prodigy and I can see you just Evolved, but don’t let it get to your head! You’re Level 110. He’s 250!

“The laws of Celadon are biased toward the nobles and the guild has a habit of not interfering unless it involves dungeons. Teleporting you away is the best solution. Let this all blow over and you can come back to visit if you want to. Lareth is a pretty little world, but there are others you can go to.”

“You won’t need to do anything,” Kelin replied, still unfazed. “I’ll send a response tomorrow.”

Then he took her hand and gave it a tug as he pulled her toward the hall. She resisted for a moment, but then she laced her fingers in his and let him lead the way.

“You don’t understand,” she muttered. “The laws of Celadon allow the nobles too much leeway. They are completely tilted in their favor. As a baron, he has the right to choose the time, place, weapons, and even to use a champion. Your position in the guild doesn’t matter, only the local law does. 

“Unless you’re also a noble, you have to accept his arrangements and show up, or you’ll be arrested. The city lord and all of the local forces will support him, not you. The only thing you can do is appeal for sanctuary from the guild, which won’t be granted, or leave.”

Her worry for him was as clear as day and it made him smile.

“I do understand,” he replied. “I read all the local laws about the nobles when I was studying him. This was within my expectations.”

“He has 140 levels on you!” Sandren’s voice was practically a shout as she squeezed his hand so hard that the bones creaked.

“Does he?” Kelin asked, his smile widening. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Thank the stars!” she said instantly. “We can teleport you today. I just need to set it up. Off  world ones are rarer. Do you want the kids to come too? I’ll get you some supplies.”

“I’m not leaving,” Kelin clarified, shaking his head. “What I need is for you to call a Herald for me. I can do it myself, but it’s better if you do it. It’ll give the guild more influence here in the future.”

Sandren froze in place, whatever she was about to say forgotten as she stared at him. Her eyes were even wider than before.

“A Herald?” she asked softly, her voice slightly reverential. She glanced up at the stars that were shining in the sky, as if checking to see what was there.

“A Herald of Silver Stars,” Kelin agreed as he reached into his shirt and pulled out his Knight-ranked badge. He held it in his palm so she could see it clearly.

Then he looked up at the stars as well, before he turned his attention back to her.

“As a Knight of the Path,” he said to her, “I ask you to help me to call upon a Herald to witness the duel.”

Sandren’s beautiful eyes were frozen in shock as she heard the words and for a long moment she didn’t say anything.
She only looked down at the badge in his hand and then up at him.

“You said only a noble can have equal rights in a duel?” he asked calmly. “How about a knight? Will the locals dare to say that a knight appointed by the Sovereign isn’t a noble? I would like to see them try.

“And when the Herald arrives,” he continued, “he will oversee the duel and ensure that it is fair. The baron will not have any choice in the matter. 

“Most importantly, he will have to accept some penalties with the level difference. He can try to twist that truth if he wishes, but he will find it doesn’t help him.”

He shook his head, smiling slightly at the thought.

“The Heralds are Silver Nagas. They will not allow it.”

Once they were aware of the challenge, if they were asked to oversee the duel, they wouldn’t allow anything to interfere.

It was the best way he had to guarantee a clean duel.

But that didn’t mean they would make it easy on him either.

The Silver Nagas were battle maniacs who loved the idea of a battle to the death, and the idea of fighting up an Evolution would only get their blood pumping.

In their eyes, it would be a worthy challenge and to take that away would tarnish his honor. 

All they would do was add a few penalties to make it fairer.

But with that to level the field, Kelin would find a way. Most importantly, he already had a mark on the baron’s soul.

He reached out and touched Sandren’s lips with a finger.

“It is not my execution,” he said gently. “It’s his.”