Chapter 345 - Laying Down the Law (Patreon)

After hearing Jasper’s report on the dissidents, Zeke decided to confront the would-be rebels. In truth, he didn’t really blame them for wanting to take the Crimson Tower for their own. It was a remarkable treasure, and as far as he could tell, he’d only barely scratched the surface of its potential. That they might want it for themselves was all but inevitable. However, he was also annoyed, largely because he’d gone out of his way to free the former slaves from their captivity, and now, they wanted to repay him by killing him and taking his things? That was enough to get his blood up.

So, when he found himself face-to-face with a haughty-looking elf, Zeke’s patience was in short supply. The elf herself was, to put it mildly, beautiful. Perfect would have probably been a better descriptor, but her flawless looks felt just alien enough to be a bit off-putting for Zeke. Besides, he couldn’t stop himself from comparing the woman to Abby, and in his eyes, the elf was found wanting.

“Well those are rose-colored glasses if I’ve ever seen them,” remarked Eveline. “And when you think of beautiful women, your first thought should be of me. Obviously.”

Zeke ignored Eveline’s comment, even if there was some truth to it. From an objective standpoint, Abby wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the elf. Or Eveline’s chosen form, to be truthful. Though Eveline’s looks were subtly different, as if to promise something torrid and cheap, but no less pleasurable for it.

However, there was a humanity to Abby that made all the difference.

“Humanity is overrated,” Eveline stated.

Zeke once again ignored her as he faced down the elf, whose name was Mika. She was tall, with vivid red hair, and perfect features – or at least they would have been perfect if they weren’t tinged with such obvious disgust.

“You? You’re our supposed savior?” she scoffed. “I expected…more.”

“I get that a lot,” Zeke responded, thinking back to when Zila, the demoness who’d guarded the Portal of Ascension, had said much the same thing. Her expectations notwithstanding, she’d been little more than a speed bump for Zeke, and he expected that Mika would soon find herself in a similar position. One way or another.

“Is that false humility?” the elf asked. “Or are you truly humble? Hmm.”

“Whatever. Jasper tells me you have issues with the way things are in the tower,” Zeke said, cutting to the heart of the matter.

“That fiend…has no one ever told you that it’s dangerous to trust one of them?” she asked. “But I would expect nothing more from someone of your…stature. Perhaps that is your secret? Do you have some powerful patron? This tower suggests as much. If so, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. Aja, my divine patron, may we all be sheltered by her boughs, would doubtless –”

“I’ve met her, you know.”

“W-what?”

“Aja. Back in the Mortal Realm. We had a nice little chat, and she gave me a quest. Of course, then she persuaded my girlfriend to betray me, so I can’t say I’m her biggest fan.”

“You…that…blasphemy! The goddess would never sully her leaves with your presence!”

The elf’s power surged, and mana swirled in the air. But Zeke stood his ground. Not because he felt more powerful than her, but rather, because he knew he had the upper hand. According to [Inspect], Mika was level sixty-two, and she clearly had the skills to back it up. Doubtless, she’d been one of the most powerful slaves beneath Min Ferilik.

But there were two problems with that.

First, she’d spent untold years sequestered in an earth-infused environment, and the chances to commune with her own attunement – a nature variant, like most elves – were few and far between. That meant that some of her power had atrophied. Still, she had more than enough strength to deal with Zeke.

Or she would have if he had any intention of letting her express that power.

With a mental command from Zeke, the tower clamped down on the elf, squeezing her at least as tightly as the suppression collar she’d worn for countless years. It was one of the new features he’d discovered concerning the tower. Inside, he was the utter master, and as such, relative levels of power were largely irrelevant.

“That’s not even remotely true,” Eveline said. “Putting restrictions on this little elf isn’t the same as controlling someone with real power.”

“Just let me have my moment,” Zeke muttered within his own mind as he flexed the power he’d been granted by the tower. It was difficult to find the source. Was it the Crimson Tower itself, or did the strength originate within Zeke himself? Perhaps it was a mere conduit, enhancing his power and directing it with that dizzying array of runes that comprised its underlying metaphysical structure. Whatever the case, it didn’t matter. As the elf soon discovered, she was all but powerless before him.

Her pale face went whiter than normal, and nearby, Zeke heard a few gasps. Those other slaves – Mika’s followers – hadn’t gone unnoticed. Not by Zeke, and certainly not by Eveline, who’d seen them even before he had. So, Zeke included them in the restrictions he applied to the haughty elf.

“So, let’s get one thing straight,” Zeke said, embracing [Triune Colossus] and assuming the unattuned form. As he grew, his body taking on the features of an automaton, he continued, “I save you, and this is how you repay me? How long were you in that mine?”

“I…I…”

Zeke grabbed the elf by her throat, his massive hand enveloping it with ease, and he picked her up. Then, he growled, “Answer me.”

She didn’t.

Eveline said, “Just kill her. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

It was tempting. And if he’d still had the corruption of the demon realm flowing through him, Zeke probably wouldn’t have thought twice about crushing the elf’s throat. And then crushing their little rebellion to past. However, his mind had grown increasingly clearer since he’d distanced himself from his time in the demon realm, and though only a handful of days had passed, he felt far more in control than he ever had within Mal’canus.

So, Zeke had little issue with tossing the elf to the ground.

At the same time, he embraced another skill, calling forth his golems. Within the tower, he could choose which ones came to his call, and he chose the nearest trio. The massive, bronze statues immediately came to life, shifted from their plinths, and stepped forward to flank Zeke.

More gasps echoed in Zeke’s ears, and he knew why. The former slaves had no idea that he could only command three golems at a time. So, from their perspective – which was filled with ninety-nine of the statues – they were surrounded by potential enforcers of Zeke’s will. That, coupled with the fact that he had just tossed the elf – one of the strongest among them – aside like so much trash, and it wasn’t difficult to understand their fear.

“Listen up,” he rumbled. “I don’t care if you stay or go. In a few days, once everyone is healed, I’ll reopen the gates and allow anyone to leave. All I ask is that when you do so, we part on peaceful terms. Anyone who wants to betray us…it won’t end well.”

“This would be a perfect time to stomp down on that haughty bitch’s head,” Eveline suggested. “For emphasis. Nothing says you mean business like a burst skull.”

Zeke resisted the urge to once again roll his eyes. “I removed your restraints back in Min Ferilik,” he went on. “I can just as easily reinstitute them any time I want to.”

Within the tower, of course, but they didn’t need to know that.

“So, don’t test me unless you want to spend the rest of your lives as powerless as you’ve been for the past years,” he stated.

“What if we want to stay?” asked one of the former slaves. He was a heavy-browed man covered in enough hair that Zeke wondered if he was at least part beastkin.

“Then you’ll be allowed to do so,” Zeke answered.

“And the monsters?”

“They’re staying, too.”

There were a few murmurs among the gathered slaves. There were at least a hundred of them, which meant that only a tenth of the population was present. However, there were more than enough of them there to bury Zeke under a pile of powerful skills. After all, most of them were higher-leveled than him.

“And they’re not monsters,” Zeke added. “They’re my people. If you stay, you need to accept that as a fact.”

For a moment, none of the slaves said anything. Then, one of them spoke up, “Ain’t no different than no other race. So, they’re lizards. Some of my best friends is lizards.”

“I’m not a lizard, Taka!” growled a huge, reptilian man. “And we’re not friends.”

“All my friends say that,” the one called Taka said. He was a hulking brute of an ogre – or maybe an orc; Zeke had no clue – and he looked like he weighed almost as much as Zeke did in his colossal form. To call him an initimidating figure – especially considering that a quick [inspect] told Zeke that the ogre was twelve levels his senior – would have been a vast understatement. “Not the not bein’ a lizard part. The other thing, ‘bout not bein’ friends. Not true. Everybody loves me and cherishes my friendship.”

“Big word for an idiot ogre,” said the reptilian man. He was at least as tall as Taka, though not nearly as broad. And though his ancestry was clearly reptilian, just like the kobolds, his skin was rubbery rather than scaley, reminding Zeke of a salamander. “And I’m not a damned lizard! I’m a dragon!”

“All lizards say that. Ain’t none of it true, neither,” said Taka. “Not that there’s nothin’ wrong with that. I loves you just the way you is, Malkarion.”

“One day…”

“Not like that, you see. Lizards and ogres, we don’t mix that way.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Mal,” Taka said. “Can’t nobody resist ol’ Taka, though. Lizard or ogre or nothin’ in between. Why, there was even this one elf who –”

Zeke cleared his throat.

“Ah. Right,” said Taka. “My point bein’ that we ain’t got no problem with them lizards. They’s people just like the rest of us. Maybe Mal can channel some of them feelins he’s got for me in that direction. I saw some of ‘em with some pretty scales. That’s the kinda thing lizards like, ain’t it? Shiny scales?”

“I hate you,” Malkarion muttered toward Taka, then told Zeke. “But I don’t think we have a problem with your…ah…rules.”

After that, Zeke directed his golems to collect Mika and her cronies. After learning that their own skills had been once again blocked, the handful of warriors – some former Red Bands among them – reverted back to old habits. Meaning that they began to act like slaves, which was extremely uncomfortable for Zeke.

“It shouldn’t be. You could make use of that,” Eveline suggested. “A few servants would definitely help with the –”

“No. Just no, Eveline,” Zeke thought.

At that point, Pudge arrived. Clearly, he had sensed that something was wrong, and despite seeing that Zeke had everything in hand, he proceeded to loom menacingly. The little boarkin girl was right there beside him, twirling mana between her fingers.

“She does have talent,” Eveline remarked, clearly impressed.

“You’ve said that before.”

“You just don’t expect to see something like that from a beastkin,” Eveline said. “Usually, they’re more like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you charge in and hit things very hard,” she stated. Zeke couldn’t really dispute that claim. Eveline went on, “With the right guidance, she really could be something special. Those skills – I can’t really gauge them all that well, but they seemed wholly focused on mana manipulation and conversion.”

“And? That makes her special?”

“It’s a difficult path,” Eveline said. “I once knew a demon named Kragus. He took a similar route to power, holing up in his little cave and practicing mana manipulation for years on end.”

“How did that work out for him?”

“He destroyed an entire city with a single spell,” she stated. “Of course, he had to work on that spell for almost a year, so…”

“What happened to him?”

“Someone found his cave.”

“And?”

“And they did to him what everyone does to sorcerers,” Eveline said. “That’s what they’re called, by the way. Sorcerers. Manipulators of the arcane.”

“What does everyone do to sorcerers?”

“I think you get the picture.”

“Spell it out for me.”

“They kill them,” Eveline said. “No exceptions. They’re too dangerous, you see? Even in Hell, there’s a standing order to destroy anyone who follows that path. It’s not hard, either. Without preparation time, even the best sorcerers can’t compete with a true skill user. But give them a few days to lay a trap, and…well, things get really ugly really fast.”

“That’s kind of horrifying,” Zeke said.

And it was. If what Pudge had said was true, even a fledgling sorcerer like Sasha could, with only a little preparation, fry hundreds of trolls by herself. Zeke could only imagine what she could do given enough time to develop and truly prepare.

“I hope you’re thinking what I’m thinking,” Eveline said.

“You know what I’m thinking.”

“I do.”

“And?”

“I agree,” she said. “We protect that girl at all costs. There is no telling how powerful she can become.”

After that, Zeke, Pudge, and Sasha headed back to the Residential District, where he quickly found Silik. After Zeke asked the kobold for his opinion about renaming the floor, Silik predictably suggested that they use a variation of Tisikana. Zeke shut that down, mostly because he saw the merit of Eveline’s suggestion that they try to distance themselves from their old lives.

Once Zeke made his feelings known, Silik fell in line and promised to bring it up with the spiritweavers. With that done, Zeke returned to the manor, where he continued to explore the administrative functions of the tower. The options were overwhelming and would doubtless prove useful going forward. However, by the time he pulled away from the control crystal, one thing had become abundantly clear: he wasn’t cut out for administration.

“I hate this,” he said, walking to his room. Once there, he collapsed onto the soft bed.  “How does anyone stand this kind of thing?”

“Most don’t,” said Eveline, having read his mind and interpreted his intentions. The idea of managing an entire town’s worth of people was enough to make him long for the days when he could just explore underground caverns, discover ruined dwarven cities, and kill horrible monsters. “They usually pass it off to someone with an appropriate class. There’s a whole race of imps that do the job in Hell. They’re quite famous for it. Of course, they’re also incredibly dishonest and have to be watched very closely. Most were former litigators and politicians.”

“So, absent that, what do I do?”

“Find someone who wants the burden,” she said. “I’m sure you could find someone in a major city. The world’s full of people who still want to advance, but don’t want to put their lives on the line to do so. Perhaps you could even guide some of the kobolds in that direction.”

Zeke gave a mental chuckle at the thought of a kobold administrator, but then thought better of his mirth. A person’s species had nothing to do with their suitability for a given role.

“That’s very progressive of you,” Eveline said. “Now, if you could only apply that attitude towards demonic mind spirits, you’d really be making some progress.”

“Whatever,” he said. Then, he added, “Good night.”

He never even bothered to undress before falling asleep. It wasn’t as physically demanding as fighting demons, but trying to wrangle a town’s worth of people brought with an exhaustion all its own.

And a headache that his skills could do nothing to mitigate.