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Before the Storm: Act 05, Chapter 16
🕑 Added 2024-03-03 09:52:01 +0000 UTC“The casino…? Or maybe the spa? No, hmm…”
Ludmila glanced at her surroundings as the Sorcerer King considered the next destination of their tour. Her mouth opened and closed several times to ask about some of the locations, but it was probably a bad idea in their present company.
Following the commotion caused by her attempted escape from the Ninth Floor, a not insignificant chunk of the royal household had attached themselves to the Sorcerer King’s entourage. In addition to the Homunculus Maids who had been drawn by the noise, several masked footmen, some sort of bird-type Heteromorph, and Master Tian now walked alongside them. Hemmed in as she was, Ludmila felt like a random pedestrian who had been accidentally caught up in the crowd.
“How about we…no, I guess it’s straight to the library, after all?”
“Your Majesty,” Ludmila said, “please do not inconvenience yourself for your servant’s sake. My interests aren’t anywhere near as…exhaustive as those of a regular Noble.”
“Is that so? Well, I could still show you some things along the way…”
The sound of dozens of pairs of feet accompanied the whisper of the Sorcerer King’s robes as they made their way up the grand staircase and through an even more grand corridor lined with the occasional exhibit. Most of it wasn’t the art that conventional aristocrats and other elites would put on display.
“You seem to have taken an interest in our trophies, Lady Zahradnik,” the Sorcerer King said. “I suppose you’re the militant sort, after all.”
“Does Your Majesty mean to say that these are trophies from past conquests?”
“Umu.”
It wasn’t as if she was interested in the trophies themselves, but such things usually came with an interesting story or two.
“This is from our first big win.”
The Sorcerer King stopped in front of a fang that was taller than a Frost Giant. He looked up at it with a measure of fondness, though Ludmila wasn’t sure how she could tell.
“A fang of the World Eater, a legendary Dragon that once devoured countless worlds.”
Worlds?
“Is ‘worlds’ being used metaphorically, Your Majesty?”
“No, the World Eater is as it sounds. A being that devours entire worlds.”
“Then I cannot imagine how such a being could be defeated,” Ludmila said.
“It was something like a right of passage for us,” the Sorcerer King said. “That’s why it’s right at the beginning of the hallway. We had many more adventures that presented a far greater challenge.”
The Sorcerer King had mentioned having ‘adventures’ before, but he never mentioned that some of them involved battling entities that could devour entire worlds. Then again, what else was a group of gods supposed to fight?
“It is fortunate that such a being no longer exists,” Ludmila said.
“Yes, well, I suppose the appearance of the World Eater would be quite troublesome here.”
“Does Your Majesty mean to say that it is possible?”
“It was defeated once a week back in the day,” the Sorcerer King replied. “I doubt that would happen here, however. The circumstances are far too different.”
She struggled to wrap her head around the implications of his statement. Never mind that, everything about the information she had just heard existed in a realm beyond her comprehension. Was the world that she knew of one that had been saved from the World Eater? Maybe ‘World Eater’ referred to an entire species of world-eating Dragons. If so, it suggested an incomprehensible ecology where a plethora of worlds was born and eaten on a weekly basis.
I suppose this is what they mean by ‘ignorance is bliss’.
There was little point in knowing and nothing that she could do about it now that she did. All one could do was worry about a day when their entire existence ended up in a Dragon’s gullet.
His Majesty doesn’t seem to be worried about it, so he must have the means to defeat this ‘World Eater’ even if it appears.
As she comforted herself with that thought, the Sorcerer King stopped at another exhibit. A bloody urn emitting an evil aura rested upon a pristine white pedestal.
“This is a Blood Soul,” he gestured at the urn. “Its only known use is as a catalyst to evolve powerful Vampires. The Racial Class that they ended up with wasn’t very popular, though.”
“Why not?”
“Simply put,” the Sorcerer King replied, “Vampires excel as physical combatants. Blood Soul, however, gives access to a Racial Class that is, well, flavourful would be a nice way to put it. How should I explain…tell me, what is the Vampire lore in the region like? They seem to exist in the ‘wild’, but most of what I’ve heard is practical. Their strengths, weaknesses, habits, and so on.”
Ludmila resisted the urge to fidget under the Sorcerer King’s gaze. The other ‘lore’ surrounding Vampires was fairly embarrassing to share aloud.
“Aside from what Your Majesty mentioned,” she said, “it’s very whimsical. Certain tales are popular with some women – ones where Vampires dwell among the living. They seduce or enthral hapless people to serve them, establishing covens in their favourite feeding grounds.”
“Exactly!” The Sorcerer King pointed an alabaster finger directly at her, “Exactly that. In terms of a Job Class build, does that sound optimal?”
Ah…
“Not at all, Your Majesty,” Ludmila replied. “When I think about it, it feels similar to what happens with the Imperial Knights or similar organisations.”
“Hm? How so? They are Humans, as far as I can recall…”
“Your Majesty mentioned that Vampires excel as physical combatants,” Ludmila said. “Soldiers in the Imperial Army follow a similar system of progression. When an imperial citizen enlists in the Imperial Army, the vast majority are trained as Fighters. At some point in their career, an Imperial Knight is deemed experienced enough for a position of command and offered the opportunity to become a Sergeant. Those who do so end up contaminating their Job Class builds. That is similar to what Your Majesty described, is it not?”
In reality, it was even worse for civilian vocations. Or, rather, it was the same, but the difference in scale was immense. The Guild System promoted members out of its ranks due to the notion that those experienced in their craft also qualified them for leadership duties. Unfortunately, an excellent Blacksmith did not make for an excellent administrator.
The Sorcerer King’s beautiful finger curled slightly as she spoke. When she finished, he nodded slightly.
“Yes, I can see how it would seem similar to you. You are on the right track, but the problem here is likely worse than you imagine.”
Ludmila felt a chill travel up her spine. Worse than falling away from the teachings of the gods? She reached out to clutch Lord Mare by the arm, finding that he was also trembling, but that was perfectly understandable.
“I fear the truth may be too much for me, Your Majesty,” she said.
An ominous chuckle rose from His Majesty’s throat.
“To truly understand the depths of such a mistake, you must first understand how another trait of Vampires works. The trait that I refer to is the ability to turn their victims into Vampires. Regular Vampires can only turn people into Vampire Spawn – that is, lesser Vampires who don’t even qualify as basic Vampires. Needless to say, they have nowhere near the power of basic Vampires while suffering even more from a Vampire’s weaknesses.
“Vampires evolve into True Vampires, which have the Ability to hold one powerful Vampire under their dominion per level in True Vampire. Shalltear, for instance, has Ten Levels in True Vampire, so she can dominate ten powerful Vampires. The One – the Racial Class that this Blood Soul allows one to advance in – has abilities in line with the idea that the pinnacle of Vampirekind will have a powerful coven to match. The maximum limit of powerful Vampires that they control goes up and they become a special type of ‘pet class’. Do you see the problem yet?”
Ludmila shook her head. If anything, it sounded like a useful tradeoff if the Vampires under The One’s command were powerful enough.
The Sorcerer King turned back around to regard the urn on its pedestal.
“The problem is that Vampires must be turned. They are not summoned through a spell or class ability. An individual with The One must spend time going around selecting suitable Vampire candidates. If they are lost, they are lost for good.
“The longer a battle goes on, the more Vampire minions The One loses, and they cannot be immediately replaced with new minions with the same characteristics. Thus, The One gradually loses all of its benefits in any serious battle. Since their Commander-like abilities only work on their pets, they can’t even act as a Commander for their comrades. Most groups would rather bring a real Commander or a real pet class – one that doesn’t send the party on massive detours to replace lost pets.”
The way that the Sorcerer King described things did indeed make it seem like a problem, but was it truly one? Powerful Vampires weren’t so easily destroyed and having a dozen or more of them running around would be an utter nightmare for a country. She imagined that such covens might be comfortably ruling the underworld of metropolises in various regions of the world.
Maybe I should keep an eye out for that. There could very well be a powerful Vampire living incognito in Re-Estize or the Empire.
“Are there many of these Blood Souls?” Ludmila asked, “With how powerful Vampires are relative to most of the world, it may be possible for an individual with The One to thrive.”
“You may have a point there, but…no, it probably isn’t possible. Blood Souls can only be obtained by defeating Cainabel.”
Ludmila frowned slightly.
“Your Majesty,” she said. “I may be mistaken, but isn’t Cainabel the god that Lady Shalltear worships?”
“Yes, that’s right. His fight was just as flavourful as The One, but people stopped killing him after the novelty wore off since Blood Souls were so useless.”
The Sorcerer King moved on. Ludmila was nearly trampled by the gaggle of retainers behind her as she digested the casual response.
Gods can die, but they can also come back. People stopped killing Cainabel, so he’s probably lurking around somewhere…
The first part made sense, as the Great Sin had proven to be a temporary outcome. The second part was only a problem if someone else could kill Cainabel…or was it a problem at all? Aside from Landfall, Vampires didn’t have that terrible of a reputation. As Lady Shalltear and her handmaidens had shown, they could exist alongside the living in a peaceful, if somewhat aloof, manner.
“I have a somewhat related question, Your Majesty.”
“A question…about Cainabel?”
“It has to do with Your Majesty’s vision of a nation where all races live in harmony and the legal realities that come with the realisation of that vision. There will be a point where the rights and protections provided by the law are at odds with the needs of one or more of our member races. The Sorcerous Kingdom already counts many predatory species as its citizens and there are races with other, even more exotic behaviours besides. At some point, the needs of those races will run into the limit of what the land is capable of providing. The King’s Peace being enforced upon the tribes in the Azerlisian Frontier and the Abelion Wilderness; the burdens that it has placed upon the rest of the Sorcerous Kingdom is an example of such limits being reached.”
Florine, who was very familiar with the issue, had expressed her concerns on several occasions. If it hadn’t been for the defence of the Draconic Kingdom against the Beastman invaders from the east, the carnivorous segment of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s population would have been facing crushing food prices or even an outright famine.
“Should the market not dictate such things?” The Sorcerer King asked.
“That approach creates problems of its own,” Ludmila answered. “Herbivorous and Omnivorous races will end up becoming the majority of the population. This is especially the case since many of those races are quite fecund. These factors will inevitably influence culture, politics, and economic realities. My friends and I fear that many races will simply be priced out of existence because other races can live on less.”
Humans were the most prominent case for their concerns. When it came to civilian economies, they had an inherent advantage against most other races in every industrial sector. Racial advantages presumably allowed Demihumans to counter that advantage, but if they were subjected to unbreakable authority that forced them to compete using ‘civil’ means, Humans would surely come out on top.
At least if they followed the teachings of our gods. No, if we’re considered a primitive backwater by the rest of the world, then the Class System must be well understood in some form.
Even in their ‘primitive backwater’, society had sorted out many aspects of the Class System in its own way. One didn’t have to have a perfect understanding of the system to make it work for them and it gave too many clues to believe that people would simply remain ignorant of reality for countless centuries.
“Do you mean to say that, even if the law created provisions for the needs of different races, our citizens wouldn’t respect them?”
“I cannot say for certain how things will play out,” Ludmila replied, “but I am of the mind that those who collectively benefit the greatest from Your Majesty’s rule will dictate the development of the nation. If there are a hundred herbivores for every carnivore, then the realities that come with that will determine the nature of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s industrial base and the attitudes carried by its culture.”
“I see,” the Sorcerer King turned his gaze down the corridor. “Market forces…inertia? Something like that.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ludmila said. “I don’t believe that a term describing what I speak of as a whole exists in any of the languages that I know.”
“Have you considered a solution to the problem?”
“No, Your Majesty. I am still developing the understanding required to even consider a solution by experimenting with policy in my territory. However, progress in the Sorcerous Kingdom is such that I fear the answers I seek will be meaningless by the time I finally obtain them.”
“Meaningless?”
“Perhaps meaningless is too strong a word, Your Majesty,” Ludmila said. “What I meant to say was that we will be well on our way to certain outcomes and the ways of thinking and perceiving the world associated with those paths will be thoroughly entrenched. Trying to change things in that situation, which will also presumably be considered ‘successful’, will be an impossible task.”
The Sorcerer King resumed walking in silence, as if pondering her words. Ludmila had hoped that he already had an answer, but it didn’t seem to be the case.
“The purpose of the administration is to find a way forward while addressing such issues, is it not?” The Sorcerer King asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ludmila answered. “This, however, brings me to a related set of concerns. Your Majesty has appointed undoubtedly excellent ministers to the Royal Court, but the civilian administration tends to encourage maximising industrial production. In particular, generating revenues for the Crown seems to take priority above all else.”
They stopped in front of a two-metre-wide golden disk that shimmered under a magical spotlight. It was covered in an unknown script and ominous imagery depicting some sort of cataclysm befalling a city.
“What do you envision to be the outcome of what you’ve described?”
“The prioritisation of material gain,” Ludmila replied. “A society driven by greed and desperation. The Baharuth Empire has already set itself on that path, and I cannot say that I liked what I saw of what they are becoming. If our people end up cultivating the same appetites, I can only see a legacy of aggressive expansion in our future. The security and economic base that the Sorcerous Kingdom provides means that independent actors from our country can succeed even without the support of the Royal Court. Not that I expect the Royal Court to try and stop them: those ventures will be bringing in the wealth that the administration seems to desire, after all.”
She couldn’t for the life of her think of what they needed that wealth for. A regular country might use it to strengthen its economy or military, but the Sorcerous Kingdom was so powerful that conventional means to build up national power were likely pointless.
“If this future concerns you,” the Sorcerer King said, “then why not propose legislation that attempts to address what you find problematic with it?”
Because I would be the only one who supports any proposals that I make.
Her friends might support her on one bit or the other, but they had their own fiefs to run. They wouldn’t do anything they believed was detrimental to the future of their land and its people. Ludmila’s initial hope was that the leaders of the various Demihuman tribes in the wilderness would involve themselves in the lawmaking process, but, so far, the membership of the House of Lords remained unchanged from the time of its very first assembly.
“Because the members of the House of Lords look forward to the progress that our future brings, Your Majesty,” Ludmila replied. “One could say that this is a good thing considering how long it took for them to actively participate in running the country again, but the pendulum is swinging from one extreme to the other. Additionally…I don’t think the House of Lords fairly represents the interests of the Sorcerous Kingdom.”
The Sorcerer King turned his head to regard her with his crimson gaze.
“What are you implying, Lady Zahradnik?”
“I am not implying anything; I am merely stating a fact. Humans make up less than ten per cent of the population of the Sorcerous Kingdom, yet the House of Lords is one hundred per cent Human. I don’t think for a moment that the interests of non-Humans are being fairly represented in the legislature. It’s not even a matter of malice: our current aristocratic establishment simply doesn’t have the knowledge or even awareness required to consider the interests of other races.”
“Umu,” the Sorcerer King nodded. “Now that is something that can be presented as an issue which must be addressed as quickly as possible. Albedo has already pointed out the difficulties in achieving fair representation in the House of Lords, however. Demihumans have their own barriers to participating in the governance of the realm. They do not understand and may not accept how our government works. Most of them can’t even read. This is the reason why the Abelion Wilderness was turned into a Special Administrative Area that is responsible for its regional affairs.”
“…does Your Majesty mean to say that this particular problem is something that Her Excellency the Prime Minister already has well in hand?”
“Among other things.”
It seemed that she had just wasted His Majesty’s time – he was just kind enough to hear her out. Ludmila fell silent, meekly following after the Sorcerer King as he continued reminiscing over the trophies in the hallway. She couldn’t understand even half of what he spoke about, but the crowd around her was enraptured by his presentation. They sighed in wonder and applauded in glee; even Lord Tian looked like he had been caught up in their excitement. Ludmila supposed that someone as ignorant as herself couldn’t appreciate the Sorcerer King’s recountings to the same degree.
Several hours later, they arrived at an impressive set of double doors. Rather than pass through directly, however, they stepped through a teleportation gate that delivered them to a hemispherical room. The walls were lined with fine statues and another set of double doors stood before them. On one door was carved a Demon of some sort, while the other displayed a female form of divine bearing.
The doors swung inward and the familiar figures of Miss Delta and Miss Zeta appeared from behind them. They bowed low in welcome to the Sorcerer King.
“We’re on our way to the library,” His Majesty said. “Is there anything that requires my immediate attention?”
Miss Delta and Miss Zeta straightened from their greeting. Miss Zeta tilted her head slightly.
“Nothing that I can think of, Lord Ainz.”
“Excellent. In that case, let’s move on.”
The absence of footsteps behind her made Ludmila look over her shoulder. It appeared that the crowd that had formed on the Ninth Floor had remained there.
“This is the throne room,” the Sorcerer King told her. “It rarely sees any use these days, but we’ve received guests here in the past.”
They had turned toward a corridor at the beginning of the great hall, but Ludmila could see to the end of it. The vaulted architecture supported a ceiling so grand that the lighting couldn’t reach its heights. A flag hung from each pillar in the long colonnade leading to the dais on the far side of the hall, but she couldn’t recognise any of them.
I wonder who they belong to. I don’t see the symbols of any of the Six Great Gods…
She lost her view of the throne room as they entered the corridor. Before long, they entered a domed chamber with a set of double doors as large as the ones leading into the throne room. Comfortable-looking furnishings under warm lighting lined the walls, and a pair of impressive metal statues stood on either side of the double doors.
“Open the doors,” the Sorcerer King said.
The two statues came alive and pushed the doors open a crack. That crack was large enough to fit three people shoulder to shoulder and the Sorcerer King led them through. On the other side was a vast gallery where bookshelves formed the walls. Ludmila gaped up at the vertical relief around her, wondering how many tomes it contained between all of its rooms and floors.
“How many lifetimes of knowledge does this place contain?” She half-said to herself.
“Impressive, no?” The Sorcerer King said, “This is the Great Library of Ashurbanipal. While I can’t say that all of the knowledge in the world is contained here, it can certainly feel that way. The library staff should be able to help you with your search…hm, where have they disappeared to…”
Ludmila wished she could look everywhere at once as they made their way deeper into the library. The libraries of Nobles and even Kings were dwarfed by even a single chamber of Ashurbanipal. She wouldn’t have enough time during her visit to get through a single shelf. It felt like she was one of the characters in the tales where one gained entrance to a library that contained all of the knowledge of the ancients, yet they were only allowed to read one page of one book. Any more than that and they were cursed, killed, or subjected to a fate worse than death.
“That’s strange,” the Sorcerer King murmured. “Aura, can you detect any of the library staff?”
“Let’s see,” Lady Aura frowned in concentration. “…uh oh.”
Ludmila looked down at Lady Aura with a frown. A moment later, she heard someone shuffling in the distance.
“Master? Is that you, Master?!”
A white-robed figure came out from behind one of the bookshelves in the next wing over. He came straight towards them, his unkempt white hair flying wildly about a wizened head that made Ludmila immediately want to avoid him.
A Banshee? No, more like an Allip.
“Master!”
Madness and desperation tainted the old man’s voice. Ludmila warily watched him as he closed the last few dozen metres, wrinkling her nose at his unpleasant odour.
“Master!” The old man shuffled to a halt, “…where did he go? I swear he was just here!”
Ludmila turned her attention away from the crazy old man. To her shock, the Sorcerer King was gone.
Comments
conkerer
Yeah, I was expecting a harsher reaction when she predicted that the country was on the road to replicate his old world that he hated, even if just a long pause as he gathered his thoughts
conkerer
*rite of passage
