Chapter 10: Deaf Ears

The festivities started early the next morning. Knight’s Day was always a big affair, and this year would be no different. True, the threat of the Profane hung like a cloud, but the valiance and power of the knights in quelling their attack had left the public hopeful. Of course, this didn’t apply to everyone. The countless people killed the night before left a lot of friends and family in deep mourning, and numerous others were left badly shaken. Though the wounds on their bodies had been mended with potions and magic, the wounds in their minds would take more time to heal.

Regardless of the events of last night, it was a jovial event, and Noah, Valia, and Shannon were enjoying it as they wandered the streets. Wherever they looked, people were celebrating with masks, noisemakers, and exotic treats. Street performers wowed audiences with their magic and acrobatics, while floats depicting various monsters rolled through the streets. Shannon clung to Noah and Valia tightly as they waded through the crowd. True, she had spent plenty of time in Welindar and Colbrand, exposing her to the bustle of city life, but deep down, she’d always be the nomad girl of the Petosic Steppes.

“This is the third Knight’s Day I’ve been here for, and the first one I’ve actually been able to savor,” said Noah.

“What happened during the first two?” Shannon asked.

“I spent my first Knight’s Day at the academy, getting enrolled. There was a big battle royale to thin out the herd, but honestly, just standing and waiting in the hot sun was the worst part. As for the second, I was busy getting knighted and then dealing with Seraph.”

“I heard he’s refused to accept his title as the tournament champion,” said Valia. “I certainly don’t blame him. If I were in his place, receiving that award after my final opponent threw the match would rob me of all honor.”

“So Colbrand’s first-ever fighting tournament ends with a Profane attack and no official winner. Honestly, this city is a magnet for all things weird and unfortunate, especially at this time of year.”

“Well, last year could have been a normal celebration with nothing going on, but like you said, you were busy dealing with Seraph,” Valia reminded.

“Good times.”

“Then there was the year before when the festival had to be postponed because the city was nearly destroyed.”

“My hands are clean on that.”

“Your business with the Harajin added a lot of extra drama that we really didn’t need.”

“It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

“I remember it was ... five or six years ago, Knight’s Day was interrupted by acorn-sized hail, punching through roofs and windows.”

“That sounds absolutely awful,” said Shannon.

“It wasn’t half as bad as the year when a colossal squid attacked the port the day before the festival, smashing up a bunch of ships and nearly halting the celebration. Fortunately, Tarnas slew it, so things went as planned. The problem was all the gulls feeding on the carcass, getting sick, and proceeding to vomit and defecate all over the city. Imagine this festival going on, and then, without warning, filth just RAINS down upon you. Washing it all out of my hair was an ordeal in itself, and the smell lingered in the streets for weeks.”

“Like I said, this city is a magnet for all things weird and unfortunate,” said Noah.

They continued their tour of the city, seeing everything the festival had to offer. As morning turned to afternoon, they made their way to the Knight’s Sheath to drink and enjoy some good music. Melinda greeted them at the door, and even while out in the streets, they could hear the ruckus inside.

“Busy day?” Valia asked.

“Busiest day of the year,” said Melinda.

They entered to find Roc being carried around on people’s shoulders, all cheering for his victory. True, he had forfeited the match with Seraph, but the fact remained that he had proven his supremacy against the mighty combatants before him. Normally, the eagle warrior was rather straight-laced and withdrawn, but looking at his intoxicated grin, it was clear he was drunk enough to lose all reservations and celebrate his wins.

The entire first floor was packed with drinkers and partiers, while upstairs, the working girls were working their tails off. Courtesans waded through the crowd in their exotic outfits, handing out drinks and swatting the men copping a free feel as they passed by. Daniel was up on stage, playing rock music. All the place needed were beads, and it would be like Mardi Gras.

Noah, Valia, and Shannon reached the bar, where Alexis and Lucius were filling glasses and mugs so quickly that barely a moment passed where liquor wasn’t being poured.

“Hey, Lex. A bottle of ambrosia and three glasses, if you would,” said Noah.

“Coming right up,” Alexis panted. For her to be so out of breath, there was no telling how long she’d been forced to keep up this pace. This wasn’t a party; it was a siege. She gave Noah a bottle and glasses, but was too busy to pour for him, so he did it himself.

“To Knight’s Day,” said Valia in a toast.

The three clinked their glasses and drank deeply. As he emptied his glass, Noah thought he heard a woman’s scream. Considering all the partying going on outside and inside, as well as the noisy fornication happening upstairs, he put it out of his mind and moved to refill their glasses. Then there was a second scream, this time inside the building, and everyone heard it. One of the courtesans stumbled into the parlor, her burlesque outfit soaked in blood coming from the stab wound in her chest, with her resulting collapse causing more shock. Without the music playing, everyone could now hear the angry voices outside.

Alexis grabbed her bow from under the bar and leaped onto the counter. “Everyone, out of the way!” she shouted before racing towards the wounded girl. Sophia met her there, using her powers to try and stop the bleeding. Alexis continued on to the front door. “Daniel, get out here!” she immediately shouted.

If she was calling for Daniel, it was apparent what was happening outside. Noah and Valia hurried outside, finding Alexis facing down an angry mob. At her feet was Melinda, with an axe embedded in her skull. “Get back! All of you!” Alexis ordered with a loaded arrow, ready to be plugged into someone’s chest.

“Filthy heathens!”

“Get out of our city!”

“You brought the Profane here!”

“You disgusting animals should be slaughtered!”

“My father died last night because of monsters like you!”

The mob shouted their slurs and waved their weapons, formed through their anger and fear from the Profane attack, mixed with an ample amount of celebratory liquor. Had this been planned? Or had it started with one indignant fool and then snowballed? They tried throwing garbage at the front of the building, even a Molotov, but the Knight’s Sheath had wards against such attacks. One girl was already dead, another was wounded, and it was just continuing to escalate.

Daniel arrived with his guitar, and seeing what was going on, he went pale and stuttered for a second, but snapped himself out of it. If he could get his nameless tune going like he did during the riot two years ago, he could placate the mob and end the violence, but as soon as he began to play, a barrage of stones was hurled at him and the others. Noah protected himself and Shannon with his armored coat, while Valia intercepted the stones with her sword. One was thrown from the side by someone else in the crowd, passing beyond her reach and striking Daniel in the skull, bringing him down.

“What do we do?” Shannon asked.

“There’s one!” a man shouted, pointing at her.

The crowd advanced towards her and Noah, but he faced them and vented his mana into the surrounding air like a poison gas cloud, then shouted one word. “ENOUGH!”

Everyone stopped dead at the sound of his voice, but that’s because of how they experienced it. Immersed in his mana, each member of the mob heard his voice thunder in their ears as if wearing headphones with the volume raised to its maximum level. That sudden barrage of sound, that voice of authority booming right within their personal space with no room to hide from it, triggered their most primal instincts, and fear overwhelmed their rage. This wasn’t a trick using invisibility and clones, but a manifestation of his honed projection abilities, allowing him to direct his voice however he wanted at those within his proximity.

“That was a very unwise decision on your part. Kneel.”

Everyone immediately dropped to their knees and pressed their faces to the earth, feeling his presence pounding on them like a waterfall. At the moment, they weren’t people. He had reduced them to mere animals flashing their bellies. His voice and mana were like the hot breath of a massive predator flaring its nostrils as it decided whether or not to devour them. Even Shannon instinctively prostrated, and Alexis and Valia barely resisted the impulse to obey.

“Blinded by loss and anger, deceived into chasing scapegoats, you’re acting like fools. No one in the Knight’s Sheath wants anything bad to happen to this city or its people. They call this place home, same as you do. They are not your enemy, but you have declared yourselves to be mine. Need I remind you what I do to my enemies?”

As Noah spoke, he drew his sword. His voice was impossible to block out, even when people covered his ears, and his mana imprinted his killing intent so clearly that those with their heads to the ground now felt like they were kneeling at the chopping block, awaiting the executioner’s axe.

“Who here is responsible for killing Melinda?” he asked while drawing his sword. “Either one will suffer, or all will.”

“It was him! He did it!” a woman exclaimed, pointing to a man nearby.

“You bitch!” he hissed.

Noah approached and stood over him. “Raise your head.”

The man looked at him in terror. “Please, forgive—” Noah’s hand closed around his throat, silencing him.

“There was a time when, if a tragedy like this were to happen before me, I would preach tolerance, forgiveness, and peace. I would try to change you, to educate you, to make you a better man who would never again make such a mistake. In all of my long years, I’ve learned the value of patience and mercy, of taking the time to help people get on the right path. I’ve also learned to spot those who are simply a lost cause, wastes of effort who don’t deserve such kindness.”

As he spoke, the man fought for breath, desperately trying to loosen Noah’s fingers while his veins swelled and his eyes threatened to pop out of his skull. No one dared look as they listened to his pained gasps and struggle, fearing that if they so much as moved, they would feel the grip of the end around their throats.

“That said, killing you is hardly any less pointless. No matter how much trash like you I clear away, there is always more, and I’m so sick and tired of dealing with you people and the conflicts you stir up. I’m sick of cursing in condemnation, sighing in resignation, turning away in exhaustion, and fighting in obligation. But no matter what I do, no matter what world I’m on, people like you force me to react and get involved.” The man, moments from death, fell back as Noah released him, coughing and struggling to get air back in his lungs. “Soiling this holiday with more death and bloodshed won’t accomplish anything, and you don’t deserve the privilege of being a martyr for your hatred. Your death will come to you in the darkness of the dungeon, unseen and forgotten.”

Knights and soldiers arrived, drawn by the commotion. “What’s going on?” Frigga asked, leading them.

“Take this man away. He is under arrest for the crime of murder. As for the rest of you...” He turned and looked at the rioters still prostrating before him. “Get out of my sight, and don’t you ever set foot near the Knight’s Sheath again. The next time you decide to take matters into your own hands and let hatred and ignorance push you into violence, I want you to remember how this went, and how much worse it could have been if I were less merciful.”

They hurried to get away from Noah, lest he change his mind, and the killer was locked in iron. Daniel and the stabbed courtesan were both healed thanks to Sophia, and Melinda’s body was brought inside. The merriment was halted, and all the patrons were asked to leave so she could be honored in peace. As tears were shed over her cold body by everyone at the Knight’s Sheath, Noah sat at the bar, nursing his bottle of ambrosia. It wasn’t long before Berholm arrived. A simple murder wouldn’t usually pull the Royal Adjudicator from the palace, especially on a day like today, but considering that it happened at the Knight’s Sheath, he was rightfully fearful when he arrived.

“What’s going on? What happened?” he asked, seeing Melinda’s wrapped body on one of the tables, surrounded by her friends.

“An angry mob attacked my establishment, and Melinda was killed,” said Cyrilo bitterly. “They were drunk on liquor and bile, chanting for my girls to be strung up, accusing us of orchestrating last night’s attack. I want to know what you plan to do to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Berholm was about to answer, but stopped, as Noah, walking by, paused and grasped his shoulder. To Berholm, Noah’s hand felt like a weight, and he got the same sensation from their silent argument during the tournament.

“You were warned.”

Three simple words, but they thundered through Berholm’s mind like the trumpets heralding an army. When Noah removed his hand from his shoulder, Berholm felt his dread skyrocket. “Noah, wait!” he exclaimed, spinning around, but Noah was already gone, as if vanishing into thin air.

Soaked in a cold sweat, Berholm rushed outside but saw no sign of him, yet he knew where he was going. Berholm pulled out a whistle and began projecting a series of loud chimes, echoing across the city and reaching the ears of the knights. They all understood the code and hurried back to the palace, but did so as subtly and quietly as they could, not wanting to give the public cause for alarm. Bad enough that Noah was going for the king, but today of all days, after everything that had happened. The city couldn’t endure yet another tragedy.

Galvin was escorted down a palace corridor by his guards, with Seraph brought along by Tarnas. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“We believe the Wandering Spirit is after you, Your Majesty. We need to get you both to a secure location,” said Tarnas, causing both Seraph and Galvin’s hearts to sink and terror grip them.

Throughout the palace, every door was locked, every window shuttered and barricaded, and knights and soldiers stood guard at every corner and passage. The king and prince were brought to a small room at the end of a corridor filled with heavy doors of thick wood and steel, all constructed following Bella’s murder of the previous king to prevent history from repeating itself. There was one small window for air, and through it came the frightened voice of a knight outside.

“He’s here! The Wandering Spirit is here!”

Outside, in the main yard in front of the palace, Noah stood, facing an army of knights, all keeping their distance, with countless swords and arrows pointed at him from all directions. The portcullis had already been locked and sealed, and how he got past it undetected, nobody knew. Among the knights was Aithorn, trying to hide his inner conflict. It went without saying that he did not want to fight a comrade and Sylphtorian lord, but it was also the uneasiness he felt about the situation.

Noah wasn’t even trying to sneak in. He had let himself be spotted on purpose, standing out in the open for everyone to see. There was no cover around him, nothing he could use to help him in a fight. To put himself at such a disadvantage meant that this was merely a distraction, or he was certain that they could not kill him. Perhaps he knew something they didn’t, had some means of leverage he was about to reveal, or, and most frightening, he didn’t regard them as strong enough to kill him. The knights around Aithorn had heard of his fight against the Wandering Spirit, how he and almost a dozen silver-ranked knights were single-handedly bested, and wondered what chance they had. Aithorn remembered the fight well, and could only imagine how much more powerful Noah had become since then.

“Lord Noah, I ask you to reconsider this. After everything that has happened, everything that awaits us, are you once more going to make yourself an enemy of the kingdom?”

Noah spoke, projecting mana to extend his voice to everyone. “I’m only an enemy if you decide I am one. I’m not here to spill blood, leave scars, or take lives; I promise you that. However, an innocent woman at the Knight’s Sheath was killed, and one of my friends was injured because of Galvin’s vitriol and manipulations, after I specifically warned him that there would be retaliation if his madness inconvenienced me. He didn’t listen, instead continuing to rile up the foolish and scared and turn them on the beastmen, all to keep their anger focused anywhere but on him. After everything I’ve done, he’s still foolish enough to ignore my threats. It seems I must teach him yet another lesson.

However, this goes beyond my simple irritation from an old feud. This anti-beastman sentiment that Galvin is stirring is turning into a ferocious monster, one that will continue to devour innocent lives, all to maintain his power and keep the people fearful and dependent. You’re no fool, Aithorn. You know this as well. I’ve seen where this road leads again and again, and this is how it starts. It starts with pain; then pain leads to fear, fear to anger, anger to hatred, hatred to bloodshed, and bloodshed to infinitely more bloodshed. One woman has already been killed by fearmongering and violence, and she won’t be the last.

Do any of you know what genocide is? It’s the organized and systematic destruction of a group of people—their lives, their culture, everything. I don’t mean like slaying a rival clan, I mean like eradicating hundreds of clans. I’ve seen it happen in countless worlds; people being rounded up and exterminated simply for the circumstances of their births, millions dead for crimes they never committed, their bones forming mountains and filling mass graves. And I don’t mean warriors left dead on a battlefield. I’m talking men, women, and children, sobbing in terror as they’re executed one by one or massacred in droves.

Are you all going to let that happen? Are you ready to slaughter innocent beastmen for the sin of being born? Are you ready to rape their women as a weapon of war and burn their temples to the ground? Are you ready to impale their newborns on your spears and carry them like trophies? Are you ready for all that blood on your hands? Are you ready for the screams? You’d better be, because if you’re not, you should think long and hard about where you’re standing.

You wage war for resources, fight and kill for land, pillage and plunder for fortune, but this is a different kind of violence you’re about to embark on, and you will all be held responsible for what comes to pass. I have lived for thousands of years, and believe me when I say that if you let this go on, then history will condemn you all, and your descendants will lament their relation to you. They will curse you for being fools who were deceived into hatred, who collaborated in the advent of mass slaughter. They will wallow in shame for the atrocities of their ancestors, and you will be regarded as no better than the Profane.

I can’t change human nature; I’ve learned that painful lesson over and over, but I can change history, and I stand before you now to prevent a horrible chapter in your history from being written. Inactivity is how atrocities are allowed to happen, and I say that as a victim, bystander, collaborator, perpetrator, and orchestrator. Considering the future that is at stake, I can’t afford to pull my punches with you people and put trust in passive half measures. For your sake, the sake of your souls, heed my warning and do as I command. It will be less painful for everyone involved if you simply step aside and let me do what I need to. I’ll leave your king alive and unharmed, same with all of you. All you have to do is stand aside.”

The knights and soldiers all flinched at the sound of his voice, and some even took a step back, but they didn’t break formation. He needed to experiment more, but it seemed the trick only worked on the weak-willed, or in Shannon’s case, the loyal and submissive. However, trained warriors seemed able to resist obeying.

“Enough of this nonsense!” General Delta shouted. “Eradicate this fool! Hit him with everything you have!”

“No, wait!” Aithorn exclaimed, but no one would listen to him.

All the knights unleashed their mightiest long-range spells, hitting Noah with the combined fury of the elements, all while every soldier with a bow rained arrows upon him. The colliding spells set off a twisting maelstrom of power, surging up high above the castle walls, visible to the city. Everyone who saw it believed, or desperately hoped, it was simply a light show to celebrate Knight’s Day. Valia, Shannon, Alexis, and Sophia, seeing the eruption from the Knight’s Sheath, knew better. However, just like in the battle against Eichorst’s men, the blast faded, revealing Noah’s clone standing in a crater, completely unharmed. The knights were all shocked, unable to believe what they were witnessing. How could anyone simply shrug off all those attacks?

Having been standing invisibly at a safe distance, Noah rejoined his clone and pulled out his grimoire. “It seems you must all be taught a lesson as well, taught the natural order of things, and who ranks above whom. Aithorn, I’d rather not involve you in this. This is your last chance to run, and I implore you to take it.” He cast summoning magic, and behind him, a colossal beast took shape from his mana.

“By the spirits,” Aithorn gasped, recognizing the creature.

It was a fearsome basilisk, not the deformed one he summoned on Kisara Island, but the healthy and vicious female that had attacked them, replicated using a scale collected from her nest. The knights and soldiers alike trembled in terror at its presence, this legendary beast known to slay entire armies, and feared for its indomitable defense, monstrous offense, and limitless aggression.

“All of you, remember: you were warned,” said Noah, snapping his fingers.

The illusory beast reared its head back, and before anyone could brace themselves, it released a mighty scream at the top of its lungs. The oscillating shriek, sharper than razor blades, assaulted the knights’ senses like nails being driven into their ears and brought them to their knees. They vomited in pain and disorientation, unable to even see as their synapses fired wildly and their pain receptors went haywire. The archers above fell off the castle walls, and everyone in the palace collapsed in anguish. Even the animals and insects, from the horses in the stables to the cockroaches in the kitchen, were keeling over.

Noah’s illusions, be they his flashbangs or this creature’s scream, could not cause actual physical damage. They only deceived the senses of his victims. The creature’s scream wasn’t genuine sound; it was just mana that was perceived as sound. Though howling in agony while covering their ears, the knights suffered no lasting harm. Their eardrums remained pristine, though their nerve endings told them the membranes had ruptured like soap bubbles. They would suffer temporarily deafness and tinnitus, but that was simply part of the deception. Noah’s mana would continue to linger in their ears until he released the magic. Only Tarnas, standing guard outside of the saferoom holding Galvin and Seraph, was unharmed, thanks to his aura of light filtering out Noah’s mana.

Fortunately, the “sound” only extended as far as Noah allowed his mana to spread, and he confined it just to the castle grounds so no one in the city was affected. He also had to direct the mana away from himself, lest he be affected. All magic users faced the risk of friendly fire, and were vulnerable to being harmed by their own techniques. However, such precise manipulation was easier said than done.

Releasing his mana was simple, but restraining it once loose was difficult, like sprinting at maximum speed, then coming to a dead stop and overpowering all his inertia. Once his mana imitated sound, it wanted to act just like sound, including how far and fast it spread. It used to be that Noah had to struggle to expand the range of influence for his flashbangs and other illusions, and now he had to fight to keep them contained.

After fifteen seconds, Noah released the spell, and the basilisk vanished. Back at Kisara Island, summoning something that large nearly killed him, but after all of his training, he had become strong enough to effectively produce and utilize such a powerful weapon. Still, he staggered from the whiplash of such a colossal energy expenditure, having used up all of his mana in one continuous burst, and his nose was bleeding from the exertion.

It wasn’t just the exhaustion of releasing mana, but the stress of controlling it and the mental fatigue it inflicted. He couldn’t use this technique at full power multiple times a day or around allies, nor could he move while it was happening, and it left him vulnerable to counterattack, but compared to everyone else, he was in good shape. The knights lay on the ground, vanquished and nearly catatonic. Many of them, on top of vomiting in pain, had soiled themselves. The only movement was pained spasming.

A mana potion restored Noah’s strength, and he strolled past them into the castle unchallenged. From there, it was simply a matter of tracking down Galvin. He had spent some time exploring the castle while invisible during earlier visits, not enough to see it all, but he had a good idea of where his prey was hiding. All he had to do was follow the path of laid-out royal guards standing in front of locked doors. The doors themselves were easy enough to get through. Whether he blasted them off their hinges with explosive charges, cut through the wooden brace bars with his sword, or dismantled magical wards that kept them shut, no barrier could hold him back for long.

Inevitably, the effects of the basilisk’s scream began to wear off for the royal guard. The knights outside had borne the brunt of it and would be out of commission for a good while, but those inside had some protection and were getting back to their feet. In one of the chambers leading to the palace safe room, Noah faced several such guards equipped with enchanted armor and glowing blades.

“Stop right there!” one yelled at Noah.

“I just took out every knight in the palace single-handedly. Do you really think you have what it takes to stop me? Think this over. Think carefully.”

“We have sworn an oath to give our lives to defend His Majesty from all threats! If this is the day we die, then it is because the gods have ordained it!”

“Gods, huh?” Noah held out his hand and formed a straight, single-edged sword. It was an illusion, like his guns, from a past life in which he studied the blade, and had cut down countless enemies. “Fear not, you won’t die today. The gods have not deemed it so.”

He then zoomed forward, moving so fast that the disoriented guards could barely respond. These were some of the best warriors in the country, and to their credit, they did what they could to fight back. Noah reached the first and raised his sword above his head, prompting the guard to defend with his own, expecting steel to collide with steel. Instead, Noah’s sword passed through the guard’s sword like it was made of air, and he was carved right down the middle.

His armor wasn’t scratched, his skin was undamaged, and his blood remained in his veins. For all intents and purposes, Noah might as well have just shined him with a flashlight. However, despite suffering no damage, the knight staggered back, gagging in pain as if drowning in his own blood, and collapsed to the floor. He lay there, spasming from the agony of a laceration that was never inflicted. The other guards stared at their fallen comrade, unable to understand what was happening. He didn’t have a scratch on him, and there wasn’t the faintest smell of blood in the air, so why was he giving his death rattle?

“Who’s next?” Noah asked.

Armed with an axe, the next guard shouted to rile himself up and charged at Noah with a mighty swing. He easily dodged the attack and replied with his own, sending his phantom blade running across the man’s chest from shoulder to hip. He gave a single cry of pain before collapsing to the ground like his friend. The three remaining guards all attacked Noah at once, but were stunned by a barrage of mana bullets and then clipped across their stomachs by Noah’s sword. Though unharmed, the men collapsed like puppets with their strings cut, groaning in pain and trying to hold in the guts they believed were spilling out.

With his guns, Noah could inflict mortal terror, instilling the fear that one’s life was just cut short and they would soon succumb to their nonexistent wound. It was an illusion built upon his expertise with such weapons in battle, and his experiences of getting shot. But Noah’s mana were even more potent when replicating this sword, something he was more intimately familiar with. Like the basilisk illusion, it was the reward for all of his mana projection training.