Reborn From the Cosmos Arc 9-25

Khan’s confrontation with his lady lizard goes as well as expected, which is not well at all. My steward’s report makes wince in sympathy, but I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. The Herbanacle has dulled the pain but he’s in for a rough ti co morning. Hopefully, he’ll be more receptive to a few hard truths now that flower petals aren’t clouding his vision.

That’s tomorrow’s problem.

Tonight, I have to deal with another delusional man who thinks he’s far more important than he is.

“This is becoming too common,” I casually remark to the succubus crouched beside on the rooftop. Once more, and not for the last ti, Geneva and I are creeping through the city at night. A much more pleasant activity these days. New Quest has co a long way from ruins. We’re perched in one of the residential districts, filled with the large communal hos that resemble barracks more than residences. They are brutal and rather ugly, but the people have taken to them. The close confines have bred community. Under the standing lanterns ant to deter thieves, young n and won congregate, enjoying the full moon while passing around an unmarked bottle. A pack of children crouch in an alley between buildings, no doubt up to sothing their mothers would scold them for. Half the windows are bright with the light of candles, several families savoring end of the day.

It feels good to see it. To know I built this. Ruling isn’t so bad when I’m far above the ss.

“It’s a sha criminals work in darkness,” Geneva answers my earlier complaint. She leans against , her warmth a counterpoint to the lingering chill of winter. “Shall I bring snacks next ti? Moon viewing is a refined hobby.”

“Nah. Who would want to chase idiots around when that’s an option? Speaking of. Little Water, you see anything?”

The estrazi creeps up behind , the smooth scales of her face brushing my cheek as she looks over my shoulder. “I don’t see them, Lou.”

“But you’re sure they’re here?”

“I followed them myself.”

Little Water doesn’t have many advantages, but one of them is her dedication. A part of wishes she had brough the Grand Summoners to my attention earlier, but I appreciate her waiting to have actionable knowledge. Including the date a few of the more unsavory elents of the group would be eting and where they were staying. She couldn’t overhear the address of the gathering but it’s a simple matter to follow them. From the sounds of it, they aren’t even worried about being discovered, believing that no one cares about them or their victims.

Callan is pissed and willing to ruin lives to get ahead; I get that. We’re not too far apart there. What I can’t understand is why he’s being so damn stupid about it. He’s not a wild summoner that has never been taught better. Geneva guided him to the right resources. He’s seen evidence that reckless contracts always end badly. Vanity King is an elental that gives him enough strength to be a na in the city, the powerful beast stronger than most hunters. Everything he needs to build himself up, reach greater heights than the son of a carpenter could ever imagine. Saints, if he did a good job spreading summoning, I might have even rewarded the bastard. Why ruin his future contracting a thing that demands human sacrifices?

[Never underestimate the greed of n.]

I anticipated greed. Marquis Guiness is greedy, but he turned that into staggering wealth and widespread influence.

[Discipline is rare in your kind. Giving in to your base desires feels too good.]

Is there anything that doesn’t feel good giving into its desires?

[Of course. There are all kinds in the many realms, my summoner. Even the girl next to you is an example. She feels no fear. No love. No envy. rely ambition. She lives to succeed, not because it feels good, but because it is what gives her purpose. Most humans in a comparable position in a powerful family would resign themselves to an unremarkable life. She threw herself into enemy territory with no backup plans or guarantees.]

Your point?

[Little Water cannot be tempted by gold or n. The threat of death is a consideration, not a concern. She is calm and she is patient yet is not afraid to take daring action.]

Does my succubus have a crush?

[Only on you, my summoner.]

Hah! Get to the point.

[As a creature that is solely driven to succeed, she will naturally pick the action that has the highest chance of success. And so long as that path isn’t threatened, she will stick to it. Callan is quite different. He wants to succeed, yes, but he also wants to enact revenge for the embarrassnt you caused him. He wants to look good in front of his subordinates, live up to whatever lies he’s told them. He wants to be comfortable, sleep in a nice house, and eat good food.]

Those are stupid reasons to kill himself and everyone following him.

[Reason implies thought. Beasts are ruled by their desires and humans are beasts. The best of your kind use their intelligence to control those desires but far more simply give in to it.]

You really don’t think much of us.

[Neither do you.]

“There.” Little Water’s voice distracts from our musing on human nature, pointing a claw. I follow it to a group of three n that are exiting one of the hos across from us. They’re not skulking through the shadows as I would expect of criminals. Rather, they’re swaggering down the road, calling out greetings to other n and catcalling won.

“Do they think they’re nobles?” I ask incredulously as I watch one flash a gold crown toward a pretty girl. I’m not surprised when she drags her friend over, letting the cocky man put an arm over her shoulder; that’s a lot of money to a commoner. “Are those supposed to be their next victims?” I’ll slaughter them first.

“No, they don’t take anyone from the city. They will entertain the won while they wait for the eting to start and perhaps spend the night with them once it’s over.”

“They’re really treating this like a ga,” I mutter as I stand from my crouch. I drop into the alley beside the building, my companions right behind . On the ground, the three of us pull up the hoods of our cloaks and trail after the idiots.

I was wondering if they intended to walk all the way to the Myriad Zone, but after a few corners, they walk up to a plain carriage that blends into the darkness. An older man is seated on the driver’s bench, reclined against the thin cushions, smoke lazily drifting up from an old, wooden pipe. He scowls as the n call out to him, but sits up to do his job, lighting the lantern hanging over the door and grabbing the reins.

I’m not concerned about keeping up with the two horses dragging the group through the streets. I look at Little Water; not so confident about this one. Before she realizes what’s happening, I grab her around the waist and hoist her onto my shoulder. To her credit, she only stiffens for a mont before relaxing.

“Thank you, Lou.”

I see what Geneva ans; she skips right past the indignity of being carried like a sack of bread and the abruptness of my decision, seeing the practicality. She’s unflappable. It reminds of Talia, but there’s a different flavor to their aloofness. My flower is detached from most things. Little Water feels far more, but she controls those reactions. A virtue many could benefit from.

The group takes their ti, the horses clopping along at a sedate pace. A trip I could make in five minutes takes over a bell. I almost ran ahead to have a drink but the shimring boundary that marks the colorful district of the city cos into view soon enough. The carriage slows as it reaches the more populated streets; I set Little Water down as the estrazi should be more than capable of keeping up.

The transition from the normal city to the Myriad Zone is as shocking as ever. From one mont to the next, the monotone night transforms into a riot of color. So of my dour mood lifts seeing the people on the street, drunk and happy. Saints, looking at them, I forget the destruction. Sothing as disgusting as what Callan is scheming has no right to mar this adult playground.

It would have been nice if they stopped by Howie’s place. Instead, they walk into a squat place with circular windows and a sign painted with a dog drinking from a large mug hanging over the open door. Music and laughter spill from inside. A small green dog, likely the inspiration for the sign, lounges out front, ears perking up whenever soone passes, but never moving.

The group enters but Geneva stops from following with a hand on my arm. “This isn’t the place where three hooded figures will go unnoticed.”

“Suggestions?”

“Of course.”