MM - Chapter 153 - THE STORM SWIRLS

Master Jedidiah 

- The Next Morning -

Jedidiah was nearing his twelfth tempering. By any standard metric, he was no longer human, but something else. Wrought in misery, blood, and sacrifice, he had transcended his mortal origins, embracing the one true path. It was for these reasons that a restless night should be impossible. 

He certainly could not remember the last time it happened, which meant it was before his third tempering when the brain lost the ability to forget. The reason for his anxiety was equally mysterious. It wasn't the girl; she was merely the most recent in a string of oddities numerous enough to fill every cell in a beehive.

It all started with the sudden and extreme changes within the Phoenix Clan. None living under the sun failed to pay close attention to the leading clan within the Amanath Territories. They were losing tens, possibly hundreds of billions making sweeping changes to massive portions of their infrastructure; they would not hemorrhage such funds without a damn good reason. Few knew why, and they weren’t speaking. The Coalition of Masters was already on edge when this madness of openly spreading martial techniques dropped into their laps.

Order had to be maintained, examples set, and so here Jedidiah was, in a city so insignificant he had to search for it on the IS. As expected, he arrived to find the diminutive metropolis on the brink of anarchy. After a brief meeting with some colleagues, he decided to have a chat with the mayor to find out why the event had not been canceled. The man was less than forthcoming; nothing that a few hours of listening to his mumblings while convincing his consciousness to ignore Jedidiah’s presence couldn’t cure.

The girl’s arrival should have been a pleasant cessation to the mayor’s vocal ruminations. It had certainly been an ‘interesting’ footnote in his many years of enforcement for the coalition. For one lacking even internal force to brazenly strike at a master, why, it was unfathomable. Yet she did it without flinching and managed to escape his grasp. 

A little girl without a hint of internal force evading a top-thousand internationally-ranked master. It was unfathomable. If Jedidiah had to describe the girl after their brief altercation, he would summarize her as untrained in all the ways that mattered and simultaneously brimming with competence that could only come from training in all the ways that mattered. The juxtaposition was startling: an oddity, to be sure.

How did she do it? The way she moved was almost choreographed, as though I were playing into the palm of her hand. A child manipulating me? Impossible… and yet…

Jedidiah heard his aide rushing down the short hallway between their adjoined rooms. The man knew he would hear and didn’t bother knocking before bursting into the hotel room. “Master! Quickly, the vodcast!”

With a flicker of thought to his LinQ, Jedidiah accessed the local casts, immediately finding the most widely viewed channel in the city: An address to the Coalition of Masters. He rewound the vodcast slightly, setting the speed to 5x until catching up.

A man shrouded in dark strips of cloth like a goth mummy stood proudly atop an empty stage in Carter City’s central square. He was not alone, surrounded on all sides by a dozen more looking exactly like him. The crowd was only beginning to gather, as the event was not scheduled to start for another three hours. In a wide ring around the city center were hundreds of corpus holding people back from rushing toward the stage.

The central figure lifted a bandage-wrapped arm and snapped his fingers. His image appeared on every wall of every building within a kilometer. His voice boomed through the streets, rattling soliglass-reinforced structures.

“Yesterday, a tier five master of the Coalition of Masters brutally attacked and maimed a class three citizen-disciple of Carter City.” The man’s outrageous statement was followed by a short clip of Jedidiah kicking the girl out of the mayor’s office. The frames slowed, zooming on her arm as it snapped from the impact.

Jedidiah’s lips tightened into a hard line. That footage should not exist. He carefully swept the mayor’s office for recorders, not to mention the three layers of jammers that his combat suit employed. In all likelihood, it was an AI-conjured fake, which was illegal. It was, however, impeccably accurate. Other than missing the part where she attacked him first.

Regardless of the recording's legality, the implications were troubling. It was likely they had some manner of actual recording, or reconstructing such a perfect copy would have been challenging, to say the least. Previously, it would have been his word against hers. Now, all they had to do was prove he used his mental ability before she attacked, which would validate her actions as self-defense. All of this begged the question: was he set up?

Another oddity.

The bandaged man’s image returned, “The Amanath Freedom Fighters have already agreed to legally represent us in the ring of law. The Coalition of Masters will pay dearly for their transgressions, I assure you.” The small crowd cheered wildly.

“That is beside the point! A master dared to strike at one of my pupils!” The man’s voice oozed fury that was hard to fake, yet Jedidah was confident he was not sincere. Arms raised, fingers spread in trembling claws, the mysterious man continued, “There will be justice this day! However, it would be no less deplorable if a grandmaster such as myself delivered it.” He swept a hand to the side, and a rupturous bang resounded through the city center as several nearby stones exploded into powder.

Most watching were incapable of noticing the flick of the man’s fingers, a clear sign of external force in action. Jedidiah lurched forward, eyes bulging. The girl’s medallion—the mark of a grandmaster’s protection—had been authentic. Every credible source they had on Astra Infernum unanimously claimed no grandmaster was backing them. In his foolish haste, Jedidiah discounted the unfamiliar emblem. His sources were clearly wrong. Yet another oddity, and this time, a deadly one.

“Either the criminal presents himself to face one of my pupils in open combat, or we will enact our vengeance upon the Coalition of Masters headquarters in Sandstone City. Today’s demonstration has not been canceled and will not be, but it has been altered. Criminal, I know you will hear my words. If you are not as cowardly as you appear, then come and defend your honor. On this day, on this stage, let blood flow toward justice.”

The vodcast ended as abruptly as it started. Jedidiah groaned, expecting the call before his LinQ announced its arrival. He stood straight, shoulders back and chin high, “I greet you, Grandmaster Vought.”

The leader of the Coalition of Masters said nothing. There was no need for him to speak. His steely, grey-eyed stare was enough. Jedidah bowed low, “It is true. I saw the grandmaster’s mark of protection and ignored it. I attacked her, and I will go to face my accusers unless ordered otherwise.”

Vought’s voice was as hard and gravely as his gaze, “See that you do not lose.”

Vaneese of CronGate

- Carter City -

“You're still here? What a shock.” Vaneese drawled, legitimately surprised the assassins from Origin of Sin hadn't tucked tail and ran at the revelation of a grandmaster on their target's side. Personally, she had been distraught, but with everything else that had gone awry recently, it was but one more setback to overcome.

The only one of the five Vaneese had ever heard speak sneered, “To flee is no different than death. For them to reveal their cards before the show has begun was a mistake. We will strike where the grandmaster is not.”

An honest smile spread across Vaneese's thin lips, “Ohh, and still confident, too. How refreshing. But you misunderstand. I meant to imply that your chances of success seem too low if you strike so early. Your targets have multiplied, and there's no way to know which is the one you seek. Without further surveillance, it seems pointless… Though, your reputation will certainly skyrocket if you manage to succeed despite the presence of a grandmaster. My organization isn't averse to lending a certain level of unobtrusive aid... if,” Vaneese paused, all eyes on her, “you’re confident in distracting the grandmaster.”

The speaker glanced at the tallest member of their group, who nodded subtly, “Additional targets are of no consequence. A few today, more tomorrow, we were paid to torture, maim, and murder every associate and family member. Our time in this little shithole was never meant to be short. We were not sent without appropriate countermeasures for a grandmaster. The window will be tight. The typical rabble you employ would only slow us down.”

Vaneese's eye glowed with delight, “Excellent. I knew that would be your primary concern and came prepared. Allow me to introduce you to our Star Elite, personally trained by my master. If they cannot meet your standards, then we will end further talks of cooperation here.” Vaneese snapped her fingers, and fifteen fit young class-four martial experts filed into the room. A week ago, she would not have considered them capable of helping in any meaningful way. They were freshly elevated to class four, barely fit to be called such. ZionLine had done wonders grinding them into shining gems within CronGate’s ranks.

One of the assassins stepped forward. Killing intent lanced through the air, snaking into the elites. The tall assassin locked gazes with each in turn, noting the durasteel in their eyes. He nodded again, withdrawing his mental ability. His face was hidden behind dark cloth, but the crinkle around his eyes betrayed a pleased smile that Vaneese returned. As far as she was concerned, risking the Star elites was a win-win. Her dear ‘master’ had gone too far. Since she lacked the power to strike at him directly, finding extra-dangerous missions for his prized underlings would have to suffice, for now. And who knows, their bold sacrifices just may open the door to landing a deadly blow against her second most hated enemy, Alaric.

Johnathon of PsiCore

- Carter City -

Johnathon blew through his lips as the vodcast came to an end. He knew what Angel was going to say before she jumped up and down, clapping. “Now it's getting interesting! Isn’t it super rare for masters to fight in public? Do you think he’ll show?” Large brown eyes blinked up at Johnathon, brimming with innocence and a carnal desire to witness bloodshed.

He took a deep breath before responding, “It is indeed rare. To keep their techniques a secret, most duels are conducted with strict precautions. I would not be surprised if this Astra Infernum sacrificed one of their own to force the coalition into the open.”

“What?! That’s devious! I love it!” Angel giggled, squirming back and forth with fists tucked beneath her chin.

“It’s merely speculation. Until we arrive and I confirm their thoughts, that is.”

Angel straightened, growing slightly more serious, “What will you do then? Aren’t we supposed to stay out of stuff like this?”

Johnathan adopted a lecturing tone that the freshly-minted agent was too indoctrinated to ignore, “We are, and are not. Without the citizens, we have no recruits and would cease to exist. It is our primary duty to protect the masses in case one of them is worthy, and this is a situation that may endanger a great many lives. It is also imperative we avoid confrontations with masters. The tensions between PsiCore and martials are already at a breaking point; another example of our superiority does neither side any favors.”

“So, what, we show up and pull a few thoughts, then sit on our hands until the fireworks start? Can I at least bring my sword this time?”

Johnathan held in a sigh. Locking gazes with Vicky, the two shared an amused twinkle that literally went over Angel’s head. “Yes, Angel. I do believe this is a situation that warrants us being fully armed. Expect nothing, prepare for anything.”

“Yipee!” Angel’s arms spread wide as she jumped. Her ecstatic giggle wasn’t what any rational person would call normal, but it fit her perfectly.

Vicky and Johnathon knew better than to be excited. This was precisely the kind of situation that could explode into a national scandal. Those never had a happy ending for agents. Johnathon clenched his hands until they ached. He’d lost enough comrades for three lifetimes. Whatever the next few hours had in store, he would find a way to get his people through it, even if it meant slaughtering every single martial in Carter City.