I stood outside the building, looking up at that blue Verton sky. I can understand the sky being different shades of blue at different times of the day and at different times of the year. Winter Afternoon Blue is not the same as Summer Afternoon Blue because the sun is further away in the winter. Perfectly sensible. I just don’t know why the summer sky in New York looks so different from the summer sky in L.A. And I don’t know why the sky in Verton is such an incredible blue.

  My thoughts drifted with the clouds for a few minutes. Not really thinking anything. Just trying to let whatever emotions I was feeling pass by. I don’t do 3-D. I just don’t. My appreciation of my Awakened is purely aesthetic. Leaving aside Versai and Othai’s “Yeet First, Investigate Never” policy, I just wouldn’t want to. I’m not a virgin, but…

  But I don’t even want to think about that. Sometimes you learn the hard way things just aren’t for you. Sometimes you learn that you aren’t like everyone else, and the world is very cruel. Sometimes you learn that the cruelest one is you, because you know just where to stick the knife into yourself. Over and over and over. You learn this world isn’t for you. So you go to a better one.

  The old world doesn’t let go so easily, though. The Old World had its little ways of reminding you that you will never measure up. Ever. That you are so definitionally lesser, so fundamentally contemptible, your highest and best calling is to be the negative example. What is a real man? A man who is not that.

  I watched the clouds drift some more.

  “Versai, how many monsters have we killed? Not you specifically, I mean… my Tower. My, I don’t know, retinue. How many have we killed?”

  “I have no idea, Tower Master. Many thousands. Those small monsters come in absurd numbers.”

  Thirteen battles. Thousands of monsters dead. Enough land and people living under me to qualify me as a second Lichtenstine. Soon to be a second Andorra. And when it was time to face the enemy myself, I ran towards them and stabbed them to death. I used trickery and shamelessness, but I ran towards the fight. I looked him straight in the eye, and stabbed them to death.

  I pulled out Sebastian’s old army knife and played with it for a minute. Funny. I’m not a car guy. At all. In any way, shape or form. But you float around in some stagnant ponds for long enough, and not owning a Lambo becomes a mark of deep personal failure. You suck, because you are too poor to buy something you didn’t want or need in the first place.

  Screw it. If I ever got back, the Manosphere could judge me all it wanted. I have infinitely more important things to deal with for now. Like the fact that I didn’t confirm the location of all of Mr. Bacciato’s people. On the other hand, the map was only so big, and according to what we had learned so far, literally everyone was a partisan. We could go door to door if need be. Wouldn’t even take that long.

  “Did you know a ton of guys who get out of basic take that signing bonus and first paycheck and buy a Charger?”

  “Your… enlisted… can afford war horses? That’s insane, my Lord.” Othai frowned.

  “It is insane. They have just enough to cover the purchase, but not enough to cover the upkeep. Most of them get sold back at a savage loss within a couple of months.” I smiled. “Another valuable bit of education provided by the Army. As is securing logistics. What kind of security does Pastet have?”

  “A team of caravan guards, my Lord. Strong, but not particularly skilled.” Rikka answered.

  “How many?”

  “Ten.”

  “Alright everyone. Let’s go pack up a merchant.”

  Pastet was very cooperative when he saw his guards butchered in seconds. Rikka picked off the two closest to him, and Othai blocked the stairs while Versai ran through the rest of the building like a garbage disposal in a horror movie. The fact that all the guards were valid targets should have been a clue. So should the sudden twisting faces and REEEE! noises I could hear from outside. Briefly. I could hear them briefly. Seconds, really.

  When I came in, Pastet was sitting at his desk, Othai’s hand resting companionably on his shoulder. He was looking understandably shocked at the ten mutated heads on his desk.

  “So. Honorable Merchant Pastet. You may be wondering why all this is happening.” I tried to think of a way to diplomatically put it.

  “You want to rob me before beheading me. That’s the only reason to keep me alive.”

  “What? No!”

  He looked over at me. Shocked or not, there was still iron in that look. “Why, then?”

  “Because your plan would get a whole lot of people killed. Look at your guards. Really look at them. Do they look like people with your best interests in mind? Would you say they share your commitment to cost reduction improving returns on investment over the next fiscal quarter?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes, they do.” Pastet sounded grim.

  I thought it through and had to agree. “Not the best example. But you take my point. These things worked for Ko’Ras, not for you. And while I personally suspect you are driven by pure human greed, I don’t believe I have a good way to prove that short of decapitating you. So what we are going to do is this- You are going to list every collaborator, every thug you ever hired, every single person you even momentarily considered using for any of your commerce restarting schemes. All your spies too- especially the ones you used to snoop on the Mayor, Mr. Bacciato and Truso.”

  “And then?” He asked.

  “And then you will spend some time in a quiet room. Reasonably pleasant and well lit, but with a good lock, and a few concealed watchers who will simply kill you if you try anything remotely suspicious. No alarms, no warnings, just death. Be good, and you will continue to be a wealthy man, with prospects of becoming even richer. Test me even slightly, and you will be dead.”

  Pastet sighed, a long and slow sound. “Most of my money is in the bank. The petty cash is in that chest. Take it. Just promise me that the room will have a chamber pot.”

  It actually took a little bit to find a chamber pot. For what I think are completely understandable reasons, we never tried to find one before.

  “Truso, I want to hire all the remaining troops. Everybody. Scouts, three handers, everyone.”

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  “Am I included in that number?” His voice sounded almost silky.

  “I dunno. What’s your daily?”

  “Ten thousand-”

  “We thank you for your kind offer, but your services are not required at this time.”

  “I could agree to a negotiated discount.” His smile was nearly as silky as his voice. It would have been so much more plausible if he didn’t look like he just got back from garrotting a debtor.

  “First let’s get the rest of the hire underway. Who is left?”

  He quoted me a price. Higher than I was expecting- he had been holding out on me. He had twenty scouts, not to mention a generous supply of pikes and crossbows. He was out of matchlock troops, however, and I had already hired all his three handers.

  The price would have been far too much for me yesterday. Vastly too much. But between fishing and Pastet, I was not financially embarrassed. Truso was not the sort to let you run a tab.

  Once the ink was dry on the page, I breathed out a slow sigh of relief. I had actually read the contract. Credit where it was due, there was no fine print to the mercenary contract. Lots and lots of clauses, but nothing was hidden. They wanted you to know exactly what you were getting into.

  The key one for me was that, absent a direct and immediate threat to Genuda itself, and pursuant to orders directly from their supreme military command under the orders of the unified Canton government, your mercs couldn’t be recalled while they were still under contract. You couldn’t have them hired out from under you, nor could the local military contractor unilaterally recall them for anything other than a breach of contract.

  There was a clause about a direct attack on Genuda itself requiring all Mercenaries to return, but that was about it. When you hired Genudan Mercenaries, they were your most loyal troops. So long as your money lasted.

  I was being very selective about how I was deploying my mercenaries. I was bringing them all back alive, even. Paying cash in advance. A model client.

  “So. Truso.” It was really interesting the way he didn’t move a muscle yet managed to become a coiled spring of sudden violence. His eyelashes didn’t even tremble. I had to lock my knees to keep them from knocking. “I have good news and other news. Which order do you want it in?”

  “Why don’t we start with the good news.” The words made it a question, but the inflection made it a command.

  “Well, the good news is that I completely agree with your general view, vis-a-vi Verton and its current government, as well as its most prominent individuals. I don’t think they can be trusted to adequately and completely fulfill their duties, and as such will have to be replaced.”

  “Ah. And as I am one of those prominent individuals…”

  “That does lead me to news item number two.” I tried to keep it as cool as I could. I don’t think I fooled anyone, but it was what it was. “Your plan is bad. It might have worked once upon a time, but Genuda today isn’t what it was years ago, and you won’t be able to hold Verton. Not with all the internal traitors and external threats. So. You know. We aren’t doing it your way.”

  “And what way will we be doing it? The number of little birds fluttering around and carrying news has fallen sharply. Which leads me to guess that you have taken certain steps.” His hand rested loosely on the hilt of his sword. A two hander, about the size of what Versai used. It looked used too. I had a feeling Truso had never owned a ceremonial weapon in his life.

  I nodded. “A purge of traitors and troublemakers. Securing the home front before dealing with the external enemy.”

  “Sensible. Quite sensible. But I think your two largest problems still remain.”

  “Hopefully just one problem, and with a little care, no problems at all.”

  “Say on.”

  “Well. How negotiated a discount would you be willing to accept for one day’s work? Your duties would include sitting around not being available for anything less than a full blown invasion by Ko’Ras or any of its puppets. At a stretch, you might be called on to offer treaty interpretation for your subordinates and any local officials with questions.”

  He stroked his chin. “It sounds so bloodless when you put it that way. Ironic, don’t you think?”

  It was. But I didn’t want to admit it. I’d said everything I needed to. I’d given Versai her orders too. If Truso did anything other than wholeheartedly agree, kill him. Don’t wait for a signal, just kill.

  “Well. Under the circumstances… a thousand Runed Bones?”

  I almost choked. Was he trying to clean me out completely? I thought that ten thousand number was a joke. Ninety percent discount not withstanding, I could buy a lot of traps and goodies at the Tower for a thousand bones.

  I closed my eyes for a moment. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. A trap is good for one wave, but adding Verton to my Sky Realm would be a permanent upgrade.

  “You drive an exceptionally painful bargain, Truso. I want a contract. But I can agree to your terms.”

  He half way smiled. It was the best reassurance I was going to get.

  “You are sure the mayor is a valid target?”

  “Yes, Tower Master. They all are.” Versai sounded “patient.” Not actually patient, just “patient.” It was doing my head in. Not the tone of her voice- the fact that all these NPC quest givers were targetable. I knew that before they joined my Realm they could be hostile, but it still felt crazy. Like my targeting radar was listing everything as a target.

  “Alright. I’m sure he’s waiting.” We walked over to the Mayor. He was, in fact, waiting. Hand on his hilt too.

  “Come to finish things?” The Mayor sounded calm.

  Cuts right to it doesn’t he? But I’d gone door to door slaughtering every traitor in the city. I now had a small heap of lamprey heads, lest I wonder if I was butchering innocent civilians. The image of rats fighting over a mostly dead body was depressingly irresistible. Everybody just wanted a big bite.

  “God yes. But in your case, not the way you might think. Believe it or not, I don’t want you dead.”

  “A trophy, perhaps? A figleaf to legitimize a ‘lawful transition of power?’” Yea, far too calm. Not resigned, just calm. What was he relying on? Rikka and Miyuki had the area locked down. Nobody was getting the jump on us up here. And between Versai and Othai, short of transforming into a titan sized monster, what possible tricks could the Mayor play?

  “No, an actual job with actual power. I’m looking to diversify my Council, and you seem like you could be an excellent fit for one of several jobs.”

  “Ah. A ministerial role.”

  “Yes. And, you know, not being eaten by monsters. Always a plus.”

  “Not monsters. Merely the enemy.”

  “No, the people behind Ko’Ras are literally monsters.” I shook my head. “Like, not human.”

  The Mayor nodded at that. “Yes. Not human. But today, they are not monsters either. Merely the enemy. And what is the enemy of my enemy?”

  “Still my enemy. Every time.”

  The Mayor drew himself up, looking imperious. “You killed all my proud young men. The heroes of a new Verton. Strangled it in the crib.”

  “Did your little bird mention how many of them have horrible toothy maws in defiance of all natural law?”

  “They did. Fewer than I expected.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. “Oh you damned fool. Every time. Every. Single. Time. The monsters always lie. Always.”

  “Merely the enemy. Your enemy, now. Happily it is no longer my problem. Your guard on the cistern was posted slightly too late. Approximately five years too late. My insurance policy has been leaking for some time now.”

  “Which is…”

  “Some kind of parasite, I believe. Should I have been successful, I would have simply added a poison to the water. Harmless to humans, fatal to the monsters. It has been confirmed.”

  Except it damn well hasn’t been confirmed. Poison doesn’t work on them, at least according to the highly motivated experts of Gradden March. Another lie.

  “And now that your obviously doomed plan is unsuccessful?”

  “My Enemy’s Enemy is no longer my problem. You are also too late to stop my other insurance policy.” His smile got wider and wider. Inhumanly wide. “Do you know what it’s like to live in humiliation for your entire life? To know that you were born to glory, and forced to live like a servant? Can your pathetic mind even begin to imagine such a thing?”

  “Versai-”

  “Too late. Always too late!” The smile kept widening, his lips tearing open, the jaw sagging open and falling down, then off as the head tilted backwards. Versai swung her bright blade and hacked the remains of the head off. With a backhand stroke, she launched the head off the battlements. A bash of her shield sent the withering body after it.

  “Well that’s not ideal. EVERYONE! To the Cistern! Genuda Mercenaries- to arms!”

  We rushed to the cistern gate. The Three Handers were doing their best to jam the door shut. Long tentacles were on the ground, pulping under their feet. Something had tried to get out. Something was still trying to get out.

  “Damn. Grab something to brace the door with. We can’t let it-” I heard sharp bangs coming from outside the city. Even away from the wall I could see the bright flashes of the warning flares. Shocking red in all that blue.

  “SCRIPTED LOSS! It’s a damned, damned scripted loss! Hell with that! Radz, to the wall and sink any damn ship that comes your way. Genuda- man that cannon and sink anything coming up the river and I do mean anything! I want thirty pikes formed up on this door. Anything comes through, kill it. Othai, take charge of the walls. Genuda Mercs, time to earn your keep. Oh, and my respects to Mr. Truso- I’m activating the self defense contingency in his contract. He can protect this door with the pikes.”

  I took a deep breath. The only people rushing around on the streets were my people- my mercenaries, and my Awakened. No wild mobs of people rushing out, opening gates and setting fires. God knows how much of who knows what was in the Cistern, but doubtless it would be more than I would like. My efforts weren’t in vain. We were in a better position than we would have been otherwise.

  “How did you know, my Lord?” Othai was already running towards the wall. I barely kept up.

  “It was going to be something. We are going to crush this assault, Othai, then we crush Wastet.”

  “My Lord?”

  “I have the strangest feeling that there is no end to this battle. Not until we take the other city. Well that’s fine. I’ll do that very thing.”