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Chapter 170: Games (3)
🕑 Added 2025-03-14 01:51:20 +0000 UTCWorld: MSS - Loading...
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“Lock, I need to talk to you.”
The moment I saw Clover, I couldn’t control my expression. I’m sure that it fell somewhere between flat and disappointment. If the pink-haired beastwoman noticed, she didn’t show it.
I’m sure she didn’t expect me to be all smiles and sunshine after our last spat in the barge.
“I’m busy.” I told her.
It was true. This might be a ball held inside a castle straight out of a fairytale, but I wasn’t here to party. Actually, I doubted that any of them were here to party. Every human, beastman, merchant and noble were here to play their own games. Smiles were just the mask required for admittance in this naked masquerade.
“You think I’m not busy?” She grabbed a hold of my doublet when I tried to turn away.
I looked down at her hand, frowning.
She quickly let go. “It’s important. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.”
“Yeah, well. Good luck with that.” I turned again.
“It’s not my prerogative, Lock. It’s hers.”
Well, if Clover wanted to stop me dead in my tracks, those were the magic words.
“...What?” I turned to face her.
Clover kind of hugged herself and I saw what she was wearing for the first time. She wore a toga-like dress, buckled across a single shoulder with a metallic clasp resembling a pink-rose. Large rose-gold bangles hung on her slim wrists and I saw more than a few bangles under the dress on her ankles as she shuffled a few steps away from me. The toga was loose, but Clover was well-endowed enough so that it didn’t drape over her like a curtain.
“You heard me. She has a task for you.” She half-growled and half-spoke, her face growing uncomfortable.
There was no doubt to whom Clover was referring to.
Oung, the Goddess of the Beastman Race.
In MSS, there are Six Gods of Creation. One for each of the races.
Oung, the Earth Goddess of the Beastman.
Khan, the Warrior God of the Orcs.
Light, Flame and Shield; the Pure God of the Humans.
Nine, the Sin Goddess for the Elves.
The Smith, God of Craftsmanship for the obvious: Dwarves.
And Sixth: Bmyl, the God hidden in Secrets. The sixth hidden race of MSS.
Out of the six, I met two of them: Oung and Khan. The latter had been rather kind to me, and I personally consider myself to owe him a debt. But it went both ways, because the last time I met him, he was trying to repay me a debt.
To be frank, I could have written it off as a dream. When I met Khan, I was half-delirious with fever from Coum’s torture. I’d been nothing more than a shell of my former self and I don’t recall all of the details. But I do know that Khan was powerful, and he inspired me with both courage and the will necessary to get myself away from that place.
Now, Oung on the other hand…
It’s complicated.
“The last time I met her, she held me in a rear naked chokehold.” I growled back in exactly the same tone. “She could have told me everything she wanted back then. Why now?”
Clover knew she had my attention. Gods damn it. She turned away, walking and expected me to follow. When I didn’t do so immediately, she tilted her head back. Just waiting. Letting out a sigh, I followed.
“I don’t claim to be privy to her secrets, Lock. She’s fickle.” I saw Clover bite her lower lip. She must’ve applied some balm to it, because it was pink and glossy. But through the gloss, I saw the marks of the bad habit she’d developed –her lower lip was bruised and torn up. Like someone who bites their nails, except it’s all cuts and bacteria. “But my guess? The game has changed.”
“Nothing’s changed.” I shot back. “The deal is still in place. I’m not going to back out. When we head to Claw’s Nest, I’ll-” I stopped myself from saying the rest.
Clover hissed, shushing me and looked around. Her expression never lost that false smile though. It was creepy as fuck, the way her way-too-wide eyes looked around to see if anyone heard. Not that it’d help, with the amount of adventurers and nobles in this place, there were enough Cores so that I would bet my entire savings that someone out there had super hearing.
But we’d never said Oung’s name. And I was willing to bet that same gold that everyone knew we were heading to Claw’s Nest anyways. For what though, well… I’m sure some information broker out there was making a pretty penny since we arrived in the Trader’s League Islands.
Speaking of, maybe I should pay a visit to them myself.
‘Five days, Lock. Prioritize, Cut off, and concentrate on what remains.’ Five days was how much we had left before we’d have to give up on the expedition altogether.
After all, the biggest hurdle: [Imugi], the grade-2 monster would start stirring after this week.
“No, it has changed.” Clover replied, “You were just asleep for most of it.”
It sounded like she was blaming me for something. “Asleep? I just fought a duel with a Knight, the Second-in-Command to the very War Prince who’s hosting us.”
“Yes, you did.” She sounded disgusted.
Something hot stopped in the back of my throat. “I didn’t see you stepping in to save your own people.” I spat.
Clover stopped in her tracks.
I stopped right behind her.
“Shut your mouth. Right now.” She said in a low voice.
She wasn’t always like this. Once upon a time, Clover had been this scared girl who’d lived her entire life surrounded by numbers and books. She’d been a merchant’s daughter, kidnapped by the Samak Horde to be sold as a Slave. Skittish and distrustful of anyone who was a human or orc, she’d been rather timid.
But her time as a slave had changed a lot of that. Not only that, she’d spent more than a year being the glue in her party, reigning in Arione, a grade-2 mage, with Maria Akka Xalud, a Scion of Turina Empire. Not to mention, L’teya had a cannonball personality of her own.
I’m not stupid. I know what Clover means to her party. I hate her, but it would be disrespectful to her as an adventurer and myself if I let my bias call a dragon a snake.
She was competent as a party leader. I had to give her that much.
So when she said those words, there was an underlying steel of authority which I’d only heard from a few individuals; including myself.
I swallowed the fire that smoldered in the back of my throat, but couldn’t help but get one last jab in. “If you want me to stop, next time you want to point fingers or call me lazy, why don’t you step in and help.”
“...fuck you.”
Ah, a compliment.
One, Lock. Zero, Clover.
…Yay.
The rest of our walk was silent.
Clover led me expertly through the guests. People dressed in all sorts of formal wear, ranging from Togas, the Dashiki-style clothing that Skaris was wearing as well as something that looked like a tux. Briefly, I wondered if anyone from my world who’d been isekai’d into this one had been a designer or tailor.
The pink-haired beastwoman greeted each guest with a smile. Somehow she’d learned everyone’s names as well as their professions. What noble or duchy they were from, whether they had a daughter or son, the marriage status of all of them. Not just that, she seemed to know some of the Akka Xalud guests –the esteemed Knights– by name.
Compared to her, I shook hands, was sized up by a lot of the Knights in attendance and immediately dismissed. For me too, I forgot their names within seconds.
She shot me a knowing look, shaking her head.
One, Lock. One, Clover.
Fine. I could live with that.
…Bitch.
She led me to the other side of the party and the demographic of the crowd around us changed drastically. More beastman were walking around us, all chatting up Clover excitedly. A few of them gave me pointed looks, hinting at Clover for introductions. But the girl was a natural, she promised to catch up over a cup of tea or something or other that whatever these rich and important people do for fun, and led me to the other side of the ballroom without much delay.
“For the record, Lock,” She said moments before reaching the guests waiting for us, “It’s the privilege of the strong to save the weak. But it’s the responsibility of the weak to look out for themselves after.”
Before I had a chance to respond, she greeted the people she’d led me to. “Hello, Councilman Bright-Ear. I’ve brought him as you asked.”
The table was full of various beastman wearing clothing styled after togas. Horns, paws, furry ears. A furry-lover’s freaking wet dream.
But the one in charge was a small dog-eared beastman. He had to be old, judging by the crow’s feet around his eyes and the deep frown lines. But when he stood, his back was straight and his chest faced towards me boldly. He held out a hand towards Clover.
“Thank you, Ms. Weinport. I thank you on behalf of Zimmskar.”
“It was my pleasure. By the way, I can trust?...”
“I will talk to the Circle on your behalf. I promise it.”
Clover nodded. Then she turned around and for a short moment, her false smile turned into genuine pleasure. “Enjoy, Lock.”
She’d fucking sold me.
The realization hit me like a hammer to the back of the head. Of fucking course. I never should have believed for one second that Oung was the only reason that Clover would do this. Knowing Clover, not only was this a direct order from Oung, but she’d manage to maneuver the situation so that she got something out of this as well. Namely, she got one big favor from this Bright-Ear guy.
The whole time, Aurora and Kyrian had been preparing me for stuff like this. The type of political, social manipulations where everyone was out to get something from each other. Hell, even a simple introduction was currency.
What I really hated wasn’t the fact that Clover was playing the game. I didn’t even hate the fact that she played me.
I hated the fact that I was stupid enough to not get anything out of it. The moment that Clover spoke to me, I should have been on alert. I could’ve gotten something out of this.
‘Yeah, but now you know where she’s going after Claw’s Nest. Zimmskar.’ A dark voice whispered.
Clover sauntered off, with nothing more to gain.
“Lock Slaveborn, I presume?” Councilman Bright-Ear held out a hand.
I traded grips with him, my voice too gruff to be entirely friendly, “Yes. Councilman Bright-Ear?”
He looked down at our hands, his hand lingering on mine. A moment too long for me to be entirely comfortable.
Taking my hand out of his, I asked, “Did you want something with me?”
“Ah, please. Look at my manners. Sit, please. Sit, and break bread with us, Lock Slaveborn.”
One of the surrounding men came and brought over an empty chair. The moment I sat down, people started shoving plates towards me.
Tiny little meat pastries that still steamed with a tantalizing scent of butter, beef and fried pastry dough. An entire rib that fell off the bone, dripping with golden-brown sauce sticky enough to trap honeybees. A fruity drink that bubbled inside of my throat.
Since I’ve been in MSS, I’ve been living off of scraps. Samak City. The Slums. The boats where we had sea rations.
Throwing away all pretense of a Knight or honor or anything that Aurora and Kyrian taught me, I dug in.
“...He sure does have an appetite.”
“He kind of eats like one of the Swamp Clans, no?”
Ripping off a piece of meat from bone like a snapping turtle, I asked Bright-Ears again, “You asked for me?”
Bright-Ears straightened. He’d been in a stupor, watching me eat. “Ah, yes. I asked Ms. Weinport to make introductions. I hope it wasn’t too rude. She assured me that you wouldn’t mind.”
‘Yeah, she would.’ But I didn’t bother voicing the remark.
“I wanted to talk with you, Lock Slaveborn. After all, you are the latest person of interest in the Free Trader’s League.”
I raised an eyebrow, refusing to let go of the caveman-styled meat in my hands. “What for?”
Bright-Ears leaned in, while the other beastman kind of looked all around us. Like they were making sure that no one was eavesdropping.
‘Two. No, Five. Five of them are Warriors. Two of them are Rogue-types, while one of them is a Shielder for sure. The other two are bladers.’ My brain automatically organized the beastman people standing around us in strategic positions.
It wasn’t just the fact that the caveman-styled meat tasted good. It was sweet, savory with a dry heat that crept up from the tip of my tongue to the surface of my nose. But compared to the taste, it was much better at hiding the fact that I had my hand positioned just above my [Dimension Ring], ready to draw my sword and shield at a moment’s notice.
Political games, I might be bad at. A game of blades? I was always ready.
“How well are you acquainted with the inner-workings of the Free Trader’s League?”
“Not very well,” I admitted. It was true. I’d just woken up only a few hours ago. Aurora and Kyrian had concentrated their efforts on cramming my brain with Turinan customs, not the current happenings in the Trader’s League.
“Enlighten me.” He said.
“The Free Trader’s league is made up of half a dozen small islands. It has one of the largest naval force in the entire Free states of Jayu, and is the number one port for all things trade and commerce. It’s also known as one of the only two powers that has a trade-relationship with the Bada Horde, the other being the Uleum Horde to the north of Turina. The Free Trader’s League trades with Babel, the Delirious Jungle, Zimmskar and Turina. Probably not just the largest trade port in Jayu, but in the entire world.”
“Yes, Jayu only has its reputation as a trade state due to the Free Trader’s league.” Bright-Ear’s eyes shone. “You know more than most.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.” I repeated.
“Ah, yes.” Bright-Ear looked around. “What do you see?”
I followed his gaze, looking around the ballroom.
Humans. Dwarves. Beastman. Elves. Mostly Human.
“What am I supposed to see?”
“I forget, that you aren’t most humans.” Bright-Ear shook his head. “Perhaps the rumors about you are true.”
“What?”
“In fact, I made up my mind the moment you shook my hand without hesitation.” Bright-Ear gestured. “What’s strange is that Jared Akka Xalud has not only invited powerful nobles and foreign dignitaries, he’s invited even all the merchants of the Trader’s League. Non-human merchants.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Stop beating around the bush, say what you mean.”
To think that over a year ago, I couldn’t even look people straight in the eye.
Bright-Ear nodded. “I see, you are a warrior. I keep forgetting that you are not one of the Turinans, though you were the skin of one.”
“The Free Trader’s League is split in two, and Jared Akka Xalud is weighing his options.”
“You’re still beating around the bush.”
“What I mean, Lock Slaveborn, is that the Free Trader’s League is at a crossroads. A crossroads with three options. One, to remain as they are: independent and part of the Jayu States. Two, to become absorbed into a larger power; either Turina or Zimmskar. And three…”
“Three, pledge itself under the banner of Jared Akka Xalud. The former War Prince.” He breathed out, looking above the ballroom to the stage where Jared had yet to make his appearance.
“It’d be the birth of a new country… and a new king. A second Turina.”
Comments
Mordock 24
Absolutely loving the pettiness on both sides here
JgcAhian
Could you give us an updated status window of the main characters?
