The Infinite Bk. 02 Ch. 07

"Not anymore," said Tarnas, "I want you and your creed out of the city before first light. Kill one more person, and whatever you do to them will be done to you. Consider that an act of diplomacy, but if you want to walk away from here alive, call one of your subordinates to hand over the antidote, now. I'm sure they're watching."

Klein raised his hand and moved his fingers to create four signs. Grond appeared from behind him less than a minute later as if stepping out of his shadow. Neither Valia nor Tarnas heard his approach, and even the second moon failed to cast light on his movements. The Harajin learned this level of stealth and skill in childhood.

Despite their abilities, to call the two-vs-two situation balanced would be more than a little exaggerative for the Harajin. They were skilled assassins and fighters, but Adwith Tarnas and Valia Zodiac were on a whole other level. Their only option was to flee if things went wrong, and each hoped that the other would serve as the sacrificial lamb.

Klein whispered something to Grond, and then Grond revealed a bottle from within his cloak. "Apply this to the wounds each day for three days, and your friends will recover." He set it on the ground between the two sides and retreated behind Klein.

"I wouldn't take that potion if I were you." All parties turned to the source of the voice, seeing a bandaged stranger entering the town square with a sword on his back. "Whether they are deceitful or just clumsy, I have yet to see a Harajin deliver what is promised."

Both Tarnas and Valia placed their hands on their sheathed swords. "Identify yourself!" the former barked.

"Me? Don't worry, I'm nobody. I have no desire to fight with anyone here, nor do I take part in the Red Revelries. I simply wish to have a peaceful discussion with the Harajin once you have concluded your business. You gave them until first light, I believe? Plenty of time for us to chat."

The two knights and the Harajin, both sides, stared at the stranger with their hair on end. A new variable had just been introduced, one that could rip apart the precarious balance. To so brazenly interrupt this exchange was the act of someone either truly foolish or truly capable. Whose side was he on?

Klein gritted his teeth, realizing that this stranger was aware of his team's situation. "Grond, is this the guy who took the potion from you?"

"I'm not sure." But Grond was sure. He knew the moment he heard the voice. The details weren't quite what he had explained to Klein, but this, indeed, was the man who took the potion.

"Your intentions do not matter," Tarnas growled. "Simply being out during the Red Revelries is a crime and has earned you a place in the dungeon."

"I suppose they really don't matter, do they? But arresting me doesn't matter either. With all due respect, I'm not worth the effort. I don't play the game; I simply watch it. Be proud of your city; it has shown me a special kind of madness and violence I've never seen before.

These blood-drunk warriors play their hide-and-seek game like murderous children, with an entire city as their playground—it's a feast for the mind. The irrationality, the life stories, the desires, so many raw facets of humanity coming together at once. Though I suppose I have committed a mortal sin of the theater, climbing up on stage and addressing the actors to try and change the play. Perhaps I should be arrested for that crime alone.

Regardless, you should take my advice. Be skeptical of what's in that bottle."

Noah pointed, and everyone dared a glance at the bottle. Valia and Tarnas could not see anything different, but Klein and Grond spotted the label. Rather than the fungal antidote, it was a healing potion. In this case, it might as well have been poison. If that was applied to the wounded knights, it would likely kill them, and the Harajin would take the blame. The two sides had avoided conflict since the last Ezerian war. A new war could ignite if those knights died, with the Harajin themselves being Uther's target.

Everything had been a distraction to make the switch, but they couldn't understand how it had happened without their knowledge. It was sitting ten feet away from them! To be able to sneak up on Harajin like that, to completely evade their senses and steal something from right under their noses, was an unnerving idea, both for their pride and their mortality. It had to have been a long-distance spell of some kind.

His hand hidden behind his back, Klein began making signs with his fingers. Nearby, Valia and Tarnas were no less alarmed. They knew something was wrong, an unseen element or intent threatening their control over the situation. Tentacles from the murky depths were prying their fingers off the future chain of events.

"If I were you, I'd wait at least a day before giving it to them."

Tarnas drew his sword, a gold-inlaid claymore with a blade almost a foot wide and inscribed with a long line of runes. To wield such a weapon or simply block its swing required strength few present possessed. "This is your only warning: surrender quietly, or I will end you. You say you aren't worth the effort to arrest, but the same can't be said for killing you."

Noah sighed, the real Noah, standing ten feet away from his clone. He was almost out of mana, so he was ready to call it a night. Instead, his attention was drawn downwards as a bundle of throwing knives landed around the feet of his clone. Several more even passed through it and hit nothing but air. They were all laced with a paralysis potion, and the Harajin who threw them, as Klein had ordered with sign language, charged towards Noah from behind with sickles similarly coated.

Noah stepped back into his clone and drew his sword to counter the imminent attack. The exchange was over in an instant. Noah's clone swung from the left, and the Harajin tried to block, only for a slash from the right to sever the head from the neck, with neither the knights nor Harajin understanding what happened. The body, headless and lifeless, collapsed, and Noah clicked his tongue.

"Ah, real shame there," he said as he wiped the blood off the blade.

"That sword, it's a knight's!" Valia hissed.

"He's the one that killed Oritz!" said Klein.

"I can see you're all a little tense right now, so I think I'll just call it quits." He turned towards Klein and Grond. "Let's meet tomorrow to hash this out. Same time, same place."

"Lumendori's Court!" Tarnas shouted the words as he pointed his sword straight up.

A magic circle appeared around the false moon, one of the most prominent Noah had ever seen. The next thing he knew, a beam of holy power was fired from the circle, washing over him like a wave of plasma and overwhelming all his senses. When Rita healed him, her mana felt pleasant and rejuvenating, but at the moment, Noah felt like he was in a giant microwave.

Even worse, he was now visible. The paladin attack had erased his clone, forcibly deactivating the spell and burning away Noah's mana shroud. Nothing had been able to damage his illusions so far, but light magic appeared to be his weakness. It was a valuable discovery, as well as worrying and ridiculously painful. He had been just a moment late in jumping back, but better late than never, as he pushed himself out of the light and saved himself.

"That was a bit nasty," he muttered.

One step. Noah's senses had been fried, leaving him so disoriented that he could barely stand. He was completely vulnerable. Two steps. The next attack was imminent. No enemy worth their salt would let this opportunity slip by. Three steps. He shook his head, and his eyes regained at least partial function, allowing him to see Klein and Valia charging toward him with their weapons ready. Four steps. Noah raised his hand, clutching four papery spheres. Five steps. He threw them at the ground, and Noah, having just been enveloped by light, was now immersed in darkness.

Smoke bombs, he had collected them from Oritz and tested one before coming to Town Square. It appeared to be some kind of volcanic dust, black and shiny like obsidian. For the briefest moment, the light of the two moons in the sky made the dust gleam and, combined with the darkness of the night and the black hue, resembled a vast screen of TV static. That moment was all Noah needed. Having trained to fight without relying on vision, Klein and Valia entered the thick smoke cloud. They attacked on instinct and heard the striking of metal, only to realize their blades had locked with each other.

Noah had already reactivated his spell and vanished into the night.

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Roc hit the cold stone ground with a groan. His wounds were bandaged, and his arm was put in a sling, but that was the limit to the care he'd receive as a prisoner. His mind was spinning, and every inch of his body hurt. Behind him, an iron door slam shut.

"Oi! I'm supposed to be released!" he heard someone near him yell.

"Where am I?" he mumbled.

"Why, you're in your royal palace of course!" Roc opened his eyes and looked at the surly dwarf sitting on the straw mattress in front of him. "Here is your bed, with sheets woven by elf maidens!" He held up a half-eaten bowl of oatmeal that Roc almost thought was vomit. "Join me, so that we may sup on this feast that even the gods envy." He waved his arm to show the three brick walls. "Enjoy the view of your vast empire, stretching far beyond the horizon!" He grabbed a cockroach and threw it at Roc. "Just one of your many royal subjects. Oh, and look!" He held up a squealing rat. "Your queen is feeling randy! Time to sire an heir!"

Roc didn't have the strength to make a retort and simply blacked out.

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