Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

CH688 Aftermath – Judgement of Allies I

***

”Young Master Alex didn’t require your assistance?

”They prevailed against a force five times their size?

”Young Master Alex himself faced three Combat Masters alone—as a Third Circle sorcerer—and won?

”And there are members within his party who are stronger than their apparent rank?”

Each report delivered by the captain of the reinforcement company she had dispatched sent waves of shock through Lady Wintermere’s mind.

She found it difficult to believe what she was hearing—yet she could not deny it.

News of Alex and his party mounting the heads of Brock Peyton and the other Lost Heathen Combat Masters upon the gates of the Fortuna estate had already reached her ears.

”You may leave. Get some rest... and thank you,” she said at last, still struggling to process the weight of the information as she dismissed the captain.

The captain saluted and quietly withdrew from the room.

Lady Wintermere rose from her seat and walked towards the window, her arms folding lightly as she gazed out at the beautifully kept garden beyond. A faint crease of concern formed between her brows.

”Do you think I made the right decision?” she asked suddenly.

The butler regarded her for a moment. Rather than answering directly, he posed a question of his own.

”Do you believe you were wrong?”

”I am... concerned,” Lady Wintermere admitted. ”Alex Fury is a dangerous man. Not one I am confident I could ever hope to control.”

”One could argue that any man worth forming a true partnership with—at the level Drumvale aspires to—would inevitably be dangerous,” the butler replied calmly.

He continued, ”He is not like Brock Peyton—a mere thug who required constant ’encouragement’ to act in ways beneficial to us. This young man possesses the potential to rise far beyond his current standing. And with that rise comes opportunity... simply by standing beside him.”

”In other words, there is no need to control him? That profit alone would follow from maintaining a partnership with him?” Lady Wintermere turned from the window to face her butler, her gaze sharp with intent.

The old gentleman nodded.

”Consider the BattleBane Guild. They are a strong organisation, yet their influence remains largely confined to the Wildlands. Beyond this region, they would struggle to command the same level of authority. And yet, by maintaining a connection with that young man, they have now established ties to both the Black Scar Syndicate... and to us—two organisations whose influence spans the wider continental plane,” the butler explained.

He continued, ”And if we examine it from another angle, we too have gained a connection to the Black Scar Syndicate—and they to us—simply through our association with him.

”Think of the doors he may open in the future as he continues to grow. Compared to Brock Peyton, the young man possesses far greater potential.”

Lady Wintermere listened intently, carefully weighing each of the butler’s words.

The butler went on, ”So, to answer your earlier question—given the choice between Alex Fury and Brock Peyton, the outcome has already proven that you made the correct decision. In the short term, your actions have secured the supply of the vital Theolonium, which would otherwise have been lost... at least, according to the captain’s report.”

”As for what the future holds... that remains uncertain. But then again, when has the future ever been certain?”

Lady Wintermere’s eyes widened briefly before gradually settling. The lingering fog within her thoughts seemed to dissipate.

She turned her gaze once more towards the garden beyond the window. This time, a faint smile—one of quiet appreciation—rested upon her lips.

”How are preparations for the delivery to the temples progressing?” she asked.

”Everything is proceeding smoothly. As per your instructions, the delivery appears entirely routine. To any outsider, it is nothing more than a standard supply shipment to the temples,” the butler replied.

”Good,” Lady Wintermere said softly.

--

Elsewhere...

”What?!”

The projection of the Sixth Elder shouted in disbelief.

”You dare bring falsehoods before the Elder Council, Admon? Do you truly expect us to believe this?”

”Precisely,” the Fourth Elder added, his tone sharp with disdain. ”Admon, it is clear you have been taken in by the legatee’s charisma. But if you intend to embellish his achievements, at least make them believable.

”You expect us to accept that he brought down the Lost Heathens—a mid-level organisation in the Wildlands, by your own report—with a mere three hundred-man formation? That this company defeated a force of over a thousand in open battle? And that the legatee—a Third Circle sorcerer—personally defeated two Combat Masters and a Fourth Order sorcerer simultaneously on his own? Do you truly expect us to accept such claims?”

Raven Horn did not respond.

He remained kneeling on one knee, head bowed in silence.

A dull ache formed at his temples, the beginnings of a headache he could barely suppress under the incessant barrage from the Fourth and Sixth Elders.

Even so, he endured.

He braced himself mentally, expecting the Seventh Elder—who completed the trifecta opposing him—to speak next.

Instead, a calm, wizened voice broke through the tension.

”Is it truly so difficult to believe?” the Third Elder spoke.

The projected figures of the Elders all turned towards him at once.

”Do you not find it difficult to believe, Third Elder?” the Second Elder asked, his tone laced with amusement.

It was clear he sought only to fan the flames and enjoy the spectacle.

”I understand the reservations of the Fourth and Sixth Elders,” the Third Elder replied evenly. ”However, we must not forget—the legatee is the Legatee for a reason. There must be something extraordinary about him, given that he succeeded in a trial where countless others have failed over many centuries.

”If you ask me, would it not be more surprising if he couldn’t achieve something as modest as overcoming a larger force? Especially when we are placing our expectations upon him to one day lead the resistance against the Deities who maintain their stranglehold over our realm?”

The Third Elder’s words caused several of the other elders to nod unconsciously in agreement.

The old man continued, ”In truth, if you ask me, what he has accomplished is not merely believable—it is normal... perhaps even expected. Rather than dwelling on disbelief, I believe our attention should be directed towards something else entirely—something far more significant that Admon reported.”

”Huh?” The Sixth Elder frowned, visibly confused.

”What exactly are you referring to, Third Elder? Please, enlighten us,” the Seventh Elder said, his tone measured.

”His decision-making. His leadership. And above all... his intellect,” the Third Elder replied.

***