Rise of the Living Forge - Chapters 477-478 (Patreon)

Relief washed over Arwin as his foot landed on the familiar cobbled stone of the Menagerie’s street. Even though he hadn’t been very worried

Relief washed over Arwin as his foot landed on the familiar cobbled stone of the Menagerie’s street. Even though he hadn’t been very worried about things going wrong during the Blacktongue’s party, it was still nice to be home.

Having to screw around with a bunch of arrogant nobles felt like dragging rusty nails through his skin. Even wading through hordes of bloodthirsty monsters was preferrable to dealing with politics.

Behind him came the rest of the encourage he’d brought to the Blacktongue’s party. From the looks of things, the one that had enjoyed the outing the most was Vanessa. She walked with a slight stumble that spoke to the amount of alcohol she’d consumed and had a wide grin plastered across her lips. Her armor was splattered with a fair amount of blood… none of which Arwin suspected to be hers.

“Can we do that again?” Vanessa asked with an eager grin. “I’ll give you a discount. Half off. That was the most fun I’ve had in months.”

“We’ll keep you in mind,” Arwin said dryly. “You might want to stay out of the way for a little while. I don’t think the nobles are going to take very kindly to what you just pulled off.”

“Us, actually,” Rodrick corrected. “She was there under our banner. And we, in turn, were invited by Thane.”

“So it’s my fault,” Thane said in a pained tone. “They’ll be after me, then.”

“Unlikely,” Rodrick said. “They’re not going to want word about what happened during the party to be getting out. The only way they pursue you or Vanessa is to also admit that she went around beating the life out of people who asked her to do it. Sounds like a big loss of face to me.”

“You don’t know the nobles like I do,” Thane said with a shake of his head. “There’s no way they’ll let a slight like that pass.”

“Oh, most certainly not,” Rodrick said. “They’ll look for assassins. Some will try to damage our trade routes and inconvenience us. Maybe they’ll try to spread rumors… but nobody will outright say what happened. It’s humiliating, and nothing matters to a noble more than their face. Or am I wrong?”

Thane was silent for a few moments. Then he nodded. “No. You’re right. But…”

“Don’t worry,” Lillia said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Our reputation isn’t going to get ruined by a bunch of second-rate nobles. Nobody at that party was very important and we both know it. No offense.”

“None taken. I wasn’t important to my own family, much less the other nobles. My fam— no. The Blacktongues haven’t done anything significant in years. Nobody at that party had significant political pull. But together they’ll have some.”

Esmerelda waved her hand with a snort. “That and a silver coin might get them a meal. We’ve dealt with bigger threats than a bunch of little brats, Thane. Don’t you worry your skinny little ass. You’re part of the Menagerie now.”

“Yeah,” Reya said with a nod. “Get used to much bigger problems.”

Thane paused. “What?”

“We’ll get there,” Arwin said, coughing into his fist. “Come on. We shouldn’t just stand around in an alleyway forever. I want to—”

“The Blacktongue manor,” Thane said suddenly. He swallowed. “Did we burn it down?”

“No,” Rodrick said.

Thane blew out a relieved sigh. “Oh. Good. I was worried—”

“That was just me,” Rodrick said. He pulled the fluffy, incredibly realistic looking wig on his head off and tucked it under an arm. “The others didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Thane stared at him. “You burned it down? Why?”

“Covering my tracks. I was looking at some important records and wanted to make sure nobody has any way to reference them after me,” Rodrick replied. “Nobody died. Don’t worry. They’ll contain the fire pretty soon. It looked bad, but it’s actually only just in a few core rooms. Stone doesn’t burn that well, so nobody should die.”

Thane swallowed. “My brother is going to be furious.”

“Oh no,” Rodrick deadpanned. “That’s horrible. Maybe his family should refrain from hiring people to mess with our guild next time. Double-dipping idiots.”

“What are you talking about?” Lillia frowned as a dangerous glint passed through her eyes. “They were planning to attack us?”

“No,” Rodrick said. “They already did. Sent a group to the Devil’s Den while we were at the party.”

“What?” Arwin exclaimed. He spun, but Rodrick’s hand fell on his shoulder before he could take another step.

“Calm,” Rodrick said. “The group wasn’t strong enough to pose anyone a threat — and Koyu would have found us by now if something had gone wrong. They certainly weren’t powerful enough to defeat him. The fact that we haven’t gotten a greeting means nothing went wrong. Don’t forget who we left to watch our backs.”

Arwin blew out a breath, but it did little to dispel the anger in his thoughts. “Right. What did they want?”

“They figured we must have gotten something good from the Expert Ranked dungeon and likely felt entitled to it,” Rodrick said dryly.

“Seriously?” Thane asked. His face went pale and he swallowed. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe—”

“I can,” Rodrick said. “But it’s not your fault. You’re with the Menagerie now. Not the Blacktongues. Their actions aren’t your responsibility.”

Arwin strangled the anger in his chest to give Thane a nod. The boy didn’t need to see him mad right now. Especially when Rodrick was right — any attack the Blacktongues might have attempted had nothing to do with Thane.

“He’s right,” Arwin said. “Let’s go group back up with the others. We’re not getting any answers here.”

***

“Ah. You joined up, huh?” Olive asked.

“Uh huh,” Thane said, his eyes boring into her wooden arm as interest battled with his attempts to try and remain professional.

The entirety of the Menagerie had gathered in the common room of the Devil’s Den. Everyone left behind to watch over the street had been waiting for Arwin’s group to return, and they passed on everything that had happened the moment the Den’s door was closed.

Sending the Blacktongue’s hired team back to them with a false location and information had been clever — and it also bought them a week to figure out if they wanted to bother with the nobles any further.

The conversation hadn’t lingered on the Blacktongues for much longer. Enemies were a dime a dozen. Everyone was much more interested in Thane.

“Welcome aboard,” Kien said. “I only joined recently myself, but I believe we are in very similar boats.”

That managed to tear Thane’s gaze away from Olive’s arm. He nearly choked on his own saliva. “You? A great hero? What do you possibly have in common with me? I’m just… me.”

Kien chuckled. “For one, we both owe our classes to the same man.”

Thane blinked. Then his eyes shot to Arwin. “Wait. You mean…”

“I lost my class to a series of circumstances that I’m sure you’ll learn about soon enough,” Kien said. “Arwin helped me get a new one back.”

“What is it?” Thane asked, his eyes wide.

A small smile pulled at the corners of Kein’s lips. “You’ll have to work harder than that to get your answer. You’re a researcher, aren’t you? Might as well get some practice out of this.”

While the others all introduced themselves more properly to Thane, Arwin, Lillia, and Rodrick slipped away from the conversation.

Their work for the day wasn’t yet done.

“Esmerelda is just about ready, and I am too,” Lillia said as they made their way for the side room. The Devil’s Den was still closed to the public today, but this wasn’t the kind of activity any of them wanted to do in the open. “That potion isn’t going to keep Mask out for much longer.”

Arwin’s lips thinned and he nodded. “Let’s get this dealt with already. We’ve been waiting too long.”

Lillia let the door swing shut behind the three of them. Esmerelda was already waiting in the room. She stood beside the wooden table — and upon it was Mask’s body. He was bound down to the wood with rope that looked suspiciously red.

“Is that cursed?” Arwin asked.

“Yes,” Esmerelda said.

“Will it hold?” Rodrick asked. “We don’t want him escaping when he wakes up.”

“Yes,” Esmerelda said. “It’s cursed. What do you take me for? Of course it’ll hold. I’m no amateur when it comes to bondage. This old woman has been around the block a few times.”

“Didn’t need to know that,” Rodrick said with a grimace. He nodded to Mask. “Let’s get it on with, then.”

Esmerelda nodded. She pulled a vial out from within her sleeve and upended it over the man’s seemingly dead face, pouring clear liquid that looked exactly like water out over him.

Mask’s eyes snapped open. He drew in something between a pained gasp and a sharp breath for air that made it abundantly clear that whatever had been in Esmerelda’s vial definitely hadn’t been water.

“Hello, Mask,” Arwin said, his features cold. “I hope you don’t mind the brief pause in our conversation. I felt it would be best to continue it elsewhere.”

The other man’s eyes darted around the room. He took in his situation in an instant. Then his gaze landed back on Arwin, lips going thin. His jaw clenched.

“Won’t work,” Esmerelda said, patting Mask on the cheek. “I removed the poison capsule. Thanks for that, by the way. It’s hard to find that variety of Purplebloom. You really shelled out for the good stuff.”

Mask bared his teeth in a snarl. “Torture me, then. I’ll never give up the Guild to traitors.”

“Traitors?” Arwin asked, his eyes thinning in anger. “You’re the traitors. I gave my life for the people of Lian. We aren’t the ones that started the war, Mask. And we certainly aren’t the ones who kept it going. That honor falls to you. You’re going to tell us why. What is the Adventurer’s Guild doing? What are the class-stealing daggers for?”

Mask stared at Arwin for a long second. “How do you—”

“Do you not recognize me?” Arwin asked, taking a step closer to Mask. Lillia moved to stand beside him. He jerked his chin toward her. “Do you not recognize her? Maybe you’ve gone through a few many puppets to keep track of faces.”

“I have no idea what…” Mask trailed off. Lillia’s shadow wings extended from her back to rise over her, flickering like black flame. The man’s features paled. “You’re not just a demon. You… you’re the Demon Queen?”

“Former,” Lillia corrected.

Mask’s eyes darted to Arwin. Realization finally settled in. “The Hero of Lian.”

“Damn. You really didn’t recognize us. That’s hurtful,” Arwin said. “How many heroes have you gone through?”

“How did you survive?” Mask asked. “It’s impossible. You both—”

“Died in an explosion,” Arwin said. “Yes. So I’ve heard. Unfortunately, it didn’t stick. But I think you might misunderstand the situation. Answer my questions.”

“Or what?” Mask asked, amusement pulling across his lips. “What are you going to do, hero? Torture me? You think I’ll spill anything? You think you have what it takes to break me? Does the Demon Queen?”

“No,” Rodrick said. “They’re don’t. That’s why I’m here.”

“And who are you meant to be?” Mask asked. “Do your worst.”

“My worst?” Rodrick smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You won’t make it anywhere near that far.”

Chapter 478

What is Rodrick going to do?

Arwin couldn’t help but send a slightly concerned glance in the former paladin’s direction. He’d never seen Rodrick working like this — and he wasn’t so sure that he wanted to. There were certain moral lines that he’d been convinced to cross.

Life wasn’t as ideal as he wanted to believe it was. Arwin knew that. But whatever was about to come…

I don’t think I want to be here for this.

Rodrick held his hand out. A tendril of shadow reached out from the darkness, its tip coiled around the hilt of Mask’s dagger. It deposited the blade into Rodrick’s hand before receding back to hide in the darkness enveloping the edges of the room.

Mask’s lips curled in amusement. He didn’t seem too scared by the prospects of being carved to pieces. “Oh, no. My own dagger. Whatever will I do? Carve me up all you like. You’ll find it does little.”

Rodrick blew out a long breath. Then he shook his head. “You seem to think we operate like you do. But I never said I would torture you. That doesn’t lead to very good results. I would know. I’ve tried it. From both sides. All it does is makes sure you say what I want to hear.”

“So you’re not even going to hurt me,” Mask said with a laugh. “Then you may as well bring me some food. I think we’ll be here a while.”

“That, I’m afraid, was always the plan,” Rodrick said. “But not us. You.”

“You’re going to leave me here?” Mask arched an eyebrow. “You think the silence will break me?”

“No,” Rodrick said. “To be honest, I don’t actually care what happens to you. There’s only one thing that you’re useful for. See, I noticed something back at the tournament. About those daggers that Necrohammer made. And I got the feeling that this one works the same way.”

“And what’s that?” Mask asked. “Take my Class. I don’t care. I cannot be broken.”

“Yes, yes. We’ve gone over that. Let’s skip forward a little, shall we?” Rodrick raised the dagger over Mask’s leg.

Then he dropped it.

The blade fell, carried by gravity alone, and punched into the top of Mask’s thigh. The weapon was sharp. Even though it hadn’t been dropped from a very high distance, it still managed to cut nearly an inch into the man’s flesh.

Mask’s eyes went wide with pain. Despite his words, he jerked against his bindings. A scream tore from his lips — but Rodrick wasn’t watching the man. His eyes were fixed upon the blade of the dagger, where a thin, nearly invisible stream of black energy twisted up along the blade and into its hilt.

“There we go,” Rodrick said. He wrapped his hand with a napkin, then carefully extracted the dagger.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mask asked, his voice weak.

“We’ve already established that. Removing your class. Not that I imagine you care. It probably wasn’t your class in the first place.”

Mask let out a pained laugh. “If you think you’re going to get me to talk, you’re sorely mistaken. Say what you want. Do what you want. It doesn’t matter.”

“Fine with me,” Rodrick said. He raised the dagger and studied the blade for a moment before gingerly handing it back off to a waiting shadow. “I already have what I need from you.”

The shadows at the back of the room shifted. Esmerelda and Anna both stepped out to join them around the table where Mask was bound. The Guildsman arched an eyebrow.

“What kind of threat is that? I’ve given you nothing.”

Anna reached into her bag and pulled out a stiff lattice mask. It was shaped to cover someone’s entire face. She then procured several jars. Rodrick took one of them, squinted at Mask for a moment, then returned it and swapped it out for another one.

He popped the top off and scooped out a thick paste.

Everyone watched in a mixture of unease and curiosity as Rodrick slathered the paste onto the mask. Arwin felt himself getting slightly queasy.

I’m really not built for this. What kind of horrible thing is he going to do? Can I really bear the responsibility for making him do this? Rodrick doesn’t want to do this any more than I do. He wants to live peacefully.

“Rodrick,” Arwin said. “Maybe—”

“Hm?” Rodrick didn’t even look in his direction. “Give me a moment. I’m busy.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t—”

“Bah. It’s fine. I’m almost done.” Rodrick slathered more layers onto his project.

Even Mask had stopped speaking. He watched on, the beginning flickers of unease building in his eyes as everyone watched Rodrick work. The man plucked paste from jars that Anna offered him, expertly mixing the paste together and forming it into shapes. He worked with such confidence that nobody dared speak. All they could do was observe.

And, in a matter of minutes, Rodrick was done.

“There,” Rodrick said, holding his work up and examining it for a moment longer before turning it toward Mask. “What do you think?”

The hair on the back of Arwin’s neck stood on end.

It was a perfect replication of Mask’s features. Everything from his plain eyebrows to average jawline. The mask was, ironically enough, Mask. Arwin couldn’t have told the difference between the two faces if his life had depended on it.

“What is that?” Mask whispered.

“It’s you, of course,” Rodrick said. He held the mask up to his face. “What do you think?”

“You’re mad,” Mask said.

“No,” Rodrick said. He frowned, offended. “I’m you. And very soon, you’re going to walk right out of here.”

“What?” Mask asked, staring in complete confusion. “What are you on about?”

“You’re going to make your way right over to some very wealthy people and take a massive shit on their doorstep while you scream about how the Adventurer’s Guild are traitors to the kingdom,” Rodrick continued, fitting the mask over his face. “You’ll list off some crimes. They’ll all be real, of course. Then you’ll swear vengeance against the Guild for what they’ve done to this Kingdom.”

“You’re delusional,” Mask snarled. “Why would I do any of that?”

Rodrick tilted his head to the side. “Good question. Unfortunately, I don’t think the Guild is going to care much. Especially not when you show up at their personal dwellings.”

As Rodrick spoke, his voice changed. Its unflection shifted until it was nearly exactly the same as Mask’s. All too late, the man realized what Rodrick was talking about.

“You’re going to impersonate me?” Mask asked. “There’s no way anyone will—”

“Trust me,” Rodrick said in Mask’s voice. “They will. The human mind is strikingly easy to bend. It won’t take much at all to make you a thousand times worse than us. Almost all manners of detection magic are searching for other magic. Your supposed death and return will make things even more suspicious. They’ll assume you were corrupted when they find no magic at play, Mask. I don’t need anything but clay to become you. The Guild won’t find anything but the truth I craft for them. They’ll order you put down. They’ll wipe you from their records. And I do hope you don’t have any family. I don’t imagine they’ll have any easy time of things.”

“What do you think this can possibly get you?” Mask demanded, but there was fear in his voice now. He knew Rodrick was right. The Guild wasn’t exactly forgiving to traitors.

 “That’s simple,” Rodrick replied. “When you’re their enemy… you’ll have nobody to turn to but us. Who else wouldn’t turn a convicted traitor to the Kingdom of Lian into the guild? Not even criminals go up against the Adventurer’s Guild.”

“You’d do all of that, just to get some worthless answers?” Mask demanded. “You’re a monster.”

“You’re right,” Rodrick said. He pulled the mask away from his face. “I am. And I’ve done a hell of a lot worse, Mask. Goodbye. Just sit tight for a week. Then we’ll let you out. I’m sure the Guild will give you time to plead your case once I’m done with your reputation.”

He turned for the door.

“Wait! Stop!” Mask yelled.

A smile pulled across Rodrick’s lips. It sent chills down Arwin’s spine, and by the time the fallen paladin turned back to Mask, his face was flat once more.

“What is it this time? I’ve been a forgiving host, Mask. I’ve answered your questions. This better be worth my time, or I’m going to forge a few love letters between yourself and a few top ranking Guildmen’s wives. Nobody too high up, of course. Just enough to make sure you get a sword through the groin before they kill you.”

“Just… stop,” Mask said, his shoulders slumping. “What do you want? I’ll answer your questions.”

Rodrick smiled again. He nodded to Esmerelda, who held a jug of water to his lips.

“Drink,” he said. “Your throat is probably dry. And if I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”

Mask stared at it for a moment. He did nothing to try and move his head away as Esmerelda tilted it back, pouring the liquid down his throat. She pulled it away once he'd finished.

Arwin shifted as Rodrick sent a look in his direction.

Oh, shit. My turn again. He totally had me. Rodrick is really something else. I almost felt like he was threatening me rather than Mask there.

“What is the Guild using the daggers for?” Arwin asked. “Why are they stealing people’s magic?”

“To harvest it,” Mask said through clenched teeth. “I don’t know how. Don’t ask me. I can’t give you the answer no matter what you do. They just take the magic from the daggers and re-distribute it.”

“Redistribute it?” Lillia asked. “What do you mean?”

“To classes,” Mask said. “And to other things.”

Esmerelda, who had positioned herself behind Mask, inclined her head slightly.

So that’s why he wasn’t scared about losing his class. It was never his to begin with. He might have gone through a few already, stealing magic from others with these daggers. One more wouldn’t make a big difference.

“Such as?” Arwin pressed.

Unease passed over Mask’s features.

“They feed them to something. The daggers get thrown into a receptacle within the Guildwall. It’s underground. A giant pit. And something in it… eats them. That’s my best guess. Nobody has ever seen it to my knowledge, but I’ve sure as hell heard it. This abominable crunching. It comes up from the pit every time I’ve tossed in daggers. I don’t know why we feed it, but those are the orders from leadership.”

The Guildwall… that’s the deepest part of the Adventurer’s Guild’s quarters. Only the highest echelons of the guild are allowed there. What the hell would they be…

Arwin’s frown deepened.

The world was hungry. He knew that. It was why the Mesh had given him his class. The Guild knew that too. They were trying to solve that issue by feeding the world with war.

The back of Arwin’s neck prickled.

Unless wars weren’t enough. Is it possible they’re intentionally feeding magic to… something? Does the world actually have a mouth? Does the Mesh?

“What else do you know about it?” Lillia asked. “Who feeds it?”

“All of the operatives. There are five of us including myself,” Mask said. His brow furrowed as confusion and surprise mixed in with his unease.  “Why am I telling you this? I didn’t mean to say that.”

Esmerelda smiled. “Truth potion.”

“What?” Mask exclaimed. “Truth potions? But you gave me water! It only tasted like water! I checked!”

“If you want to get real technical, it’s not a truth potion,” Esmerelda said with a wave of her hand. “It’s a promise enforcement potion. Makes you really inclined to follow up with the agreements that you’ve made. And you just agreed to answer our questions in exchange for Rodrick not shitting on a doorstep in your name. Good deal, that.”

“Such a thing is possible?” Mask muttered. “We don’t have—”

“We ask the questions,” Lillia said sharply. “What else do you know about this… pit in the Guildwall?”

“Not much,” Mask replied. “I’ve already said it all. My duties were largely in distribution. I only went to the Guildwall a few times. Blade is the one usually in charge of the draining of the weapons.”

The members of the Menagerie exchanged a glance. Then they nodded.

It looked like they had their next target.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Rodrick said. “We’ll have a few more questions for you… but I’ll leave those to Esmerelda.”

Esmerelda’s smile grew wider.  

“Wait, what?” Mask asked. “You’re going to leave? Just like that?”

“No just about it,” Rodrick said as the others all headed for the exit. “I’d say it had been a pleasure, Mask, but that would be a lie.”

Arwin followed everyone else into the common room but threw a glance over his shoulder and through the door as it started to close behind them. Esmerelda was little more than a shadow in the darkness of the room. But, in the final moments before it slammed shut, he could have sworn that the smile on her lips stretched far wider than any human’s should have.