The Rise of Marquis 16 (Patreon)

The Rise of Marquis
Chapter 16

-VB-

“You… aren’t going to force me to join you?”

Taylor was still skeptical.

Well, for one, she knew very painfully, learning it painstakingly, that Marquis - Samuel - was a fair man who didn’t understand “painless training.” Every single minute not spent on exercising under his watch was spent fighting him directly.

If she didn’t go home wrecked with pains from runnings miles upon miles, then she went home wrecked with pain from receiving one too many gut punches and her face wasn’t spared from his fists.

“No, I respect your decision,” he said as he threw another punch.

She ducked underneath the strike, jumped back, cartwheeled after that, and landed on her feet.

It’s been a month since she began her training underneath him, and she realized a few things about herself that she wouldn’t have discovered had it not been for him.

First off, she was a Brute and Mover. She thought she was a Breaker/Striker with her rapidly crystalizing blood and whatnot, but apparently, it was abnormal for a person to be able to carry her crystalized blood; the moment they crystalize, they gained mass - which broke all kinds of physics - and stayed that way until she broke it back down to blood and took it back into her body. With a full body armor, she weighed in at a ton, plus or minus one hundred pounds.

Sufficed to say, ordinary Taylor would never have been able to carry that. It wasn’t humanly feasible. She could move faster than humans normally could, even with extensive training. Mom pegged her at Breaker/Striker/Blaster 5 (Blaster, because she could throw her blood in the air, make them crystalize, and then send them flying like arrows) and Brute/Mover 3.

The Mover bit was how she went from barely being able to dodge Sam’s punches in the first week to being able to dodge, jump, cartwheel, and land on her feet like an experienced gymnast.

And hell did that make her feel good.

She could also do this!

She zoomed forward and slammed her foot into his mid section. He skidded back, but he got back at her with a single tackle.

She rolled away but jumped up and got back up on her feet within three seconds.

“Alright, that’s enough sparring for today,” Sam declared with a grin. “You’re getting better.”

She huffed as she walked around, not letting her legs get cramped up. “Yeah, and I only landed one hit after taking five from you.”

“That’s more than most Protectorate heroes, Taylor. Be proud of it.”

She tried not to preen even though she felt good about being told how she was superior to the Protectorate heroes.

It just made her prospect for her future hero work that much better.

Speaking of which…

“So what happens if I roll up on your operations?” she asked him.

“Well, it depends,” he hummed as he walked over to the sidelines and popped out a bottle of water from the fridge. Uncorking the lid, he held it up and gulped down four times before tilting it right back up and letting out a satisfied hiss. “If you strike something like the protected businesses, then I’ll probably break a bone or two before kicking you out. If you attack some of my more illegal operations, then I’ll probably slap you around while making sure my boys and girls get out in time.”

“Ugh. You’re so sure I can’t win.”

He chuckled. “Believe me. It’s better that I win. If I lose, then you’ll have to arrest me. If I get arrested, that gives Jenkins and Countess to run wild, never mind what my other capes will do. You don’t want that.”

Taylor hummed as she walked over to the same fridge and pulled out her own water bottle.

As she drank, she really thought hard about the other capes of the March.

Jenkins was easy. He was a dumb clone Master who swarmed his enemies. Even without weapons, he was a menace but only if she didn’t know how to properly manage large numbers… which she didn’t know how to do. So medium priority.

De Soma was hard. She was a Case-53 Tinker or something who did a lot of automated drones. There were PHO threads about how she could, if she really wanted to, make aerial drones that could perform air strikes. By herself, she was pesky but combined with Jenkins, she could dominate a battlefield. Medium priority, mostly because she apparently never left her workshop.

Baroness, not Countess, was a flying artillery. She was the hardest for her to fight. High priority.

Countess, not Baroness, was a Biokinetic. She was infamous for making people fall asleep, make vines tangle people up, and more. The moment she got in close quarter combat range - aka arm’s length - Taylor would lose. Highest priority.

She grimaced.

“It would suck to fight.”

“Yes, especially since Amelia will not hold back anymore.”

Taylor froze before turning to Sam.

“Umm. Hold back?”

Countess, the girl who made organic power suits, who bloodied the Merchants for shits and giggles, donated time and effort to hospitals and thus had the heart of the city, and made a T-Rex for a stunt, was holding back?

“Oh yes. You should see her in her lab. She thinks I don’t hear her giggle.”

Taylor tried to imagine it. She imagined Countess in a lab filled with muscles, plants, and chemicals, giggling while she made velociraptors.

“... I’m not sure I can imagine that.”

He scoffed. “Try not to.”

“So what’s next?”

Sam corked the lid back on his water bottle and grinned at her. “We call your mom and see what she can do to help you use your power better. Considering who we are talking about,” he paused for a moment, and Taylor did guess her mother’s first suggestion.

“What I can do with my power to make money.”

He nodded. “Financial independence is very important. You probably can’t imagine what people will pay for parahuman made ivory.”

“A thousand dollars?”

“Try one hundred thousand for hand-sized ivory.”

She choked on water.