Chapter 9 (Patreon)

LitRPG con turned out to be far more time-consuming than I thought. Transitioning from sea level and what New Zealand considers low humidity (70%) to Denver was tough on my body, and I caught the flu the moment I arrived. LitRPG con was absolutely fantastic, and I had so much fun. If you get a chance to go next year, I suggest you do. Everyone was friendly and inviting, and I haven't heard of anyone coming away from it without saying it was one of their favourite cons. I expect it will be even bigger next year. Sorry for the lack of chapters, my health sucked in Denver, and then I missed a connecting flight and got stuck in San Francisco for two days. When I finally got home, jet lag kicked in along with an early hayfever season. (Spring is over a month away.) I'm medicated and not feeling like going to be in the middle of the day now, so I'm back to work. I'm super pumped from the con, so I'm looking forward to seeing how productive this month is. I've also cancelled going to Dragon con because LitRPG con was so good, so I'll have a much more productive next few months. I rewrote this chapter three times since I got back, and I'm still not happy with it, but it's close to what I want, so we'll move forward and hit this one hard when it comes to edits. Thanks for the support, and I hope you all have a great month.

Chapter 9

Adventurers and champions rarely interact. It's not because one looks down on the other, but because their roles in society keep them apart. Adventurers confront threats within a kingdom's borders. Champions confront threats that appear well beyond them. On those rare occasions when a champion needs to engage a threat within a kingdom's border, the local adventurers are typically too weak to assist them, which lowers the chances of them interacting even further.

Misk was an exception to this rule.

Torvac had also been pulled into champion-level problems on several occasions, so neither were even slightly surprised by how much support we received on our way to the king's palace. I, on the other hand, found the journey shocking.

Every village, town, and city on our way to the teleportation circle in North Manter was standing by with everything we could possibly need. The carriages we left Blackwood with were replaced with better ones the moment they became available. If not, horses had been warmed up and were ready to be switched out. The owners of these horses worked like pit crews, moving with astounding speed, so we were prepared to leave within moments of arrival. Everything was so streamlined that we arrived at the king's palace in the early afternoon.

It was hours before I expected to get there, and our relentless pace did not stop once we passed through the palace gate. An army of servants met us at the entrance, each one taking an urn or bag of dwarven possessions without needing to be told. They followed the five of us through the vaulting hallways of the enormous building to the throne room where I'd received my crown's mark, not muttering a word or doing anything to slow us down.

One of the king's elderly master of ceremonies met us outside the open throne room's double doors, dressed like a peacock as he held up his hand, halting our procession.

I glanced above his head, because he wasn't the master of ceremonies I'd met on my previous visit.

Master of Ceremonies Vandi

Eighteen members of the king's guard stood behind him with their weapons drawn, watching Torvac, Misk, and I. If Misk hadn't warned me to expect this, I would have been concerned. After all, the king's guard was made up of some of the strongest warriors and wizards in the kingdom, so the group that stood before us was stronger than some armies.

Vandi nodded in my direction, clutching his ceremonial staff. "His Highness would like me to remind you before you enter his throne room that if your quest does not meet the requirements for demanding this meeting, your crown's champion mark will lose a level."

I inclined my head to the master of ceremonies. "I thank His Highness for his consideration, but whether or not I lose a level is irrelevant at this point. My quest demands I speak with him as soon as possible."

"Then I will do my best not to keep you. Are you aware of protocols around champions meeting the king?"

"As a champion without the king's recognition, I will have no less than one member of the king's guard behind me with a drawn blade at all times. Should I step on the dais or make any sudden movements, they will execute me. Should my companion Torvac do something similar, he will receive the same response. Should my companion Misk do something similar, all three of us will be executed, because he poses too great a threat to the king's safety."

There were only three known ways to gain the king class. You either had to be elected by the nobility of the nation, start your own kingdom, or kill a king inside one of their throne rooms. The last one was extremely hard to do, because kings typically had the highest attributes of anyone in their kingdom and were usually champions. If anyone had a chance, it was usually another champion, which was why all kings took precautions when meeting with unknown champions and their entourages.

Misk was one of the few non-champions to receive such treatment, and having seen the man in action, I could understand why.

Vandi motioned with his hand, and the king's guards came forward. Twelve of them went to Misk, surrounding him on all sides. Nine of them were wizards, and judging by their unhappy expressions, they didn't like their chances if it came to a fight. Three surrounded Torvac and three surrounded me, which was overkill in my opinion.

One of them would have been enough.

With security taken care of, Vandi stepped away and entered the throne room.

Vandi straightened his back before he slammed his magical staff against the ground three times, filling the throne room with drum-like bangs. "Champion Arnold partitions to speak with you, Your Highness, on a matter relating to a quest offered by the system." Vandi's voice boomed through the throne room, likely due to some ability he had, because no one at his age could speak so loudly.

A hundred yards away, the king sat on his throne. "Champion Arnold and his entourage may enter." The king's voice did not boom. It flowed through his throne room, reaching every corner as if he were whispering the words directly in my ear. His charisma-enhanced voice made me stand straighter, inspiring me to be better than I was.

The master of ceremonies waved us through.

As I took my first step forward, with my eyes downcast, the guards surrounding me moved, matching my step. The sound of their footfalls was smothered by the long, golden carpet. It didn't let me forget they were there, but it did allow me to focus on other matters.

I noticed the seating that had filled the room when I gained my crown's mark was gone. Their absence transformed the room from one built for social gatherings to one made for judgment. The massive stained-glass windows that covered the white marble floor in illuminated art depicting pivotal events in the king's life no longer looked friendly, but like something designed to remove dark corners in which to hide.

I put those thoughts out of my head.

I had a quest to complete.

The servants carrying the urns and equipment filed in behind us, moving in lockstep. They marched down the carpet like a funeral procession, giving the ashes more respect than they deserved.

Eventually, I stopped at the foot of the dais, thirty feet from the king. As the others moved to join me along the edge, the servants placed their burdens on the ground in rows behind us and began filing out.

No one spoke.

No one addresses the elephant in the room.

We all waited until we were alone.

When the last servant exited the throne room, the door closed with a loud bang, leaving the five of us with the king and his guards.

"You may lift your gaze," the king said, voice as strong as my father's when I was scared and as gentle as my grandfather when he taught me to fish.

I lifted my head.

Looking at the king was like looking at the ocean for the first time. His presence stretched beyond the horizon, encompassing everything that lay before me. His regal bearing transformed the world around him, making me understand this throne room was a throne room only because he sat in it. Place him in a farmhouse on the humblest stool, and it would be elevated to equal the room that stood around me.

His age was incomprehensible, simultaneously existing in youthful strength and aged wisdom. When the Greeks carved statues of Hercules, they dreamed of the man who sat before me. When artists thought of beauty, they thought of the man before me. When children thought of safety, they thought of the man before me.

His chestnut hair was cut short, and the density of his beard defied genetic possibility. I felt the moment our gazes met in my core and the urge to bow gripped me. My attributes and mental immunity meant nothing before this man, and my body folded willingly and without resistance.

This man.

This king.

He deserved all my respect and more.

"You may rise," he said, voice strong and comforting in the same breath.

I raised my head, but only because he asked.

The king continued to meet my gaze. "Who lies within those urns, Crown's Champion Arnold?"

I stiffened.

I wasn't the only one.

The other four all stiffened with me.

With that one sentence, the king had recognised me as a champion of Radian. He inexcusably tied my actions to him and his kingdom. The king was not a fool, so it was not a slip of the tongue, but a calculated move. One which might spell the end of his kingdom, but offered us more protection than we would have dared ask for.

The guards surrounding me sheathed their weapons, bowed to the king, and walked away. The others remained guarding Torvac and Misk.

I took a deep breath. "The urns contain King Grorion's subjects, Your Highness."

The king paused to consider my answer for a moment, but did not look alarmed or angry. He examined how many urns sat in his throne room before returning his gaze to me.

"You may proceed with your quest, Crown's Champion Arnold."

"Thank you, Your Highness. I have come before you today to inform you of the actions we have taken in Blackwood to keep its citizens safe from King Grorion's citizens. I apologise in advance for how much of your time we will need to take over this matter, but the quest is clear that you need to be completely informed of what we have done."

***

It was after midnight by the time Jeric finished recounting everything he'd done. All five of us had high intelligence, which offered perfect recall, so no details had been spared as we explained the lengths we had gone to prepare Blackwood for the dwarves' return. The king hadn't spoken the entire time, remaining in his seat listening to everything we said without comment. The system's quest was ambiguous enough that trying to hurry us along could be disastrous in the long run, and the king was neither lazy nor a fool.

I glanced at Jeric, making sure he was finished and then turned to the king. "This is everything we can tell you, Your Highness. Do you have any questions?"

The king shifted his gaze to me, pinning me in place. "I wish to confirm that Grandmaster Swordsman Torvac and Grandmaster Wizard Misk were not initially part of your conspiracy?"

"They were not, Your Highness."

"Did you request their aid in Blackwood to help you with this conspiracy?"

"No, Your Highness. I also only requested Torvac's aid. He chose to bring Misk along with him, treating it as a holiday."

"Why did you request Grandmaster Swordsman Torvac's aid?"

"Are you aware of my monster trapping method, Your Highness?"

Lying was physically impossible when I stood before the king. The very thought of it made me feel dirty, and sharing my method with him didn't give me even a twinge of fear. It wasn't even something that concerned me. The king was not the sort of man to steal my method from me, and if he did, it would only be for the most honourable of reasons.

"I'm aware that Blackwood is producing astronomically more experience than it should be for several classes, but I do not know the details of how Blackwood is doing so."

I spent the next few hours explaining my monster trapping method before the king finally cut me off.

"So, you contacted Grandmaster Swordsman Torvac for additional protection because of the burtag incident. He chose to invite Grandmaster Wizard Misk because of their friendship. At the time, you were not well acquainted enough to broach this subject."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"When did this change?"

"After the Cobraki incident. During the incident, I did something that could have gotten me killed to protect my employees. The system informed me that Torvac now viewed me as an ally because of my actions. Afterwards, Jeric said it was safe to approach him about what we were doing to keep Blackwood safe from the dwarves."

The king turned to Torvac. "Why did you approach Grandmaster Wizard Misk about the dwarves?"

"Torvac not believe Torvac enough to keep Blackwood safe if more than one group of dwarves arrive at once. Friend Misk good man and ally of Torvac, so obvious choice."

The king nodded. "Why was this matter never brought before Regent Katella?"

I took a deep breath. "Regent Katella denied my initial request for protection when I understood the danger Blackwood would be in from accepting the dwarves' help. She made it clear to me that she was willing to sacrifice Blackwood to gain access to the dwarves' new giant killing weapon, as the long-term benefits of the weapon would save more lives than those lost in Blackwood."

"Do you consider her judgment wrong on this matter?"

I couldn't lie.

I didn't want to lie.

I didn't consider lying.

"No, your Highness. Giants have caused enough massacres over the past two centuries that losing a single village to gain such a weapon is prudent. When these weapons are supplied to Radian, we will no longer have to fear them."

"If that is your belief, why protect Blackwood?"

"Regent Katella's decision was the correct decision for someone in her position. My decision was the correct decision for someone in my position."

"Elaborate."

"Some sacrifices are necessary when you are responsible for the safety of millions. When you are the one being sacrificed, you have no obligation to walk to the executioner's block willingly."

"And yet, you've walked in here willingly."

***

There is something freeing about confessing your sins, about laying it all bare to be judged without the veneer of lies to hide the truth. There is also something to be said about not being executed. I mean, there is a lot to be said about not being executed, especially the part where your head remains attached to your neck. That's the part I really like about not being executed.

However, from the moment Misk explained that our actions would lead to war, I never hesitated. I never backed down. I never second-guessed myself. I went to the king as fast as I could with everyone involved and laid bare our sins. Which is why the five of us ended up quietly sitting in one of the king's parlours writing down everything that we had done, like we were the naughty kids who had to stay after class.

Our confessions had a practical purpose rather than a legal one. Words were enough to damn you in Radian. However, given the complexity of our conspiracy and the king's precious time, it was easier for everyone involved if the king had written records to distribute. The only thing that surprised me about the situation was that we hadn't been left under guard or thrown in a cell. After everything, I expected us to be treated like criminals. Instead, we were being treated like a problem that needed to be solved.

I didn't know what to make of that.

And I was too afraid to ask.

Losing my last shred of hope wasn't something I wanted to do.

I added the latest page of notes to my growing pile and sighed. Something was bothering me. It had been bothering me ever since the first time I'd stood before the king, but I'd always been too worried about mind control to voice my concerns. However, with the threat of imminent death waiting just beyond the doors, I didn't feel the need to hold my tongue and the thought of dying without knowing the answer was grating on me.

I glanced around.

The parlour looked like one of those industrial era gentlemen's clubs. There was a bar along one wall of the room with armchairs and couches spread between. Fine wooden side tables and bookshelves dotted the room on thick burgundy carpet. It was a nice place to be left alone with your thoughts while you worked, but no place was nice when you were waiting for your death.

Jeric and Redcliff sat to my left and right in armchairs, and Torvac and Misk were sitting opposite me, sharing a couch. There were no servants present, but that didn't mean we were alone.

"Are we being spied on?" I asked quietly.

The four of them looked up from their work, putting their pens aside. Misk paused and then shook his head.

"You're sure?"

"I detect no magical scrying, and I can't hear anyone breathing in the walls. Are you having second thoughts?"

Torvac scowled. "Friend Misk does Friend Arnold disservice. Friend Arnold is no coward."

"You're right. I apologise for what I said, Arnold. It's due to the situation and not an assessment of your character. But if you hypothetically have been having second thoughts, I would hypothetically say I doubt we'd be able to get you out of the city alive."

Torvac continued to scowl as Misk chuckled.

"I'm not having second thoughts," I replied, sharing a smile with the sickly wizard.

Jeric suddenly smirked. "Have you come up with another one of your plans to get us out of this mess?"

I shook my head and watched the smirk die. "No. Not this time. But I do have a question, and it might be sensitive in nature, so I don't want the conversation to be public."

The smirk returned. "I've never known that to stop you."

"It might be taboo."

"Once again, I've never known that to stop you."

"I feel dirty even thinking about asking it."

Redcliff raised an eyebrow. "You feel dirty just by thinking about asking it."

I nodded.

Redcliff chuckled. "I'm not sure if I'll ever be the same after hearing something you consider that dirty, but I can't say I'm not curious."

They all stared at me with different levels of forced amusement, trying to distract themselves from their fate.

I sighed. "Why do I bow to the king?"

Standing before the king, I'd been overwhelmed by his presence. It was a humbling and awe-inspiring experience like it always was, and I'd done everything I could to make sure that no longer happened, but I'd bent the knee just as easily as I always did.

Torvac frowned. "King is man worthy of bowing to. Torvac does not see problem?"

"The problem is I'm immune to charm effects and my charisma attribute is 163, but every time I stand before him, I can't control myself. I bow. I scrape. I answer every question he asks and hold nothing back. I told him everything about my blood trap system to clarify something he needed to know and didn't care in the slightest until I left his presence."

"Is good thing," Torvac said.

Misk folded his arms and smiled. "Only if you understand what's going on, and it sounds like Arnold doesn't understand what's happening to him." He turned to me. "You're not charmed. You're not overwhelmed by the king's charisma. You're under the influence of the king's Regal Presence ability."

So, it was an ability.

"How do I stop it?"

"It's not something you want to stop."

"I strongly disagree."

Misk wheeze chuckled. "That's only because you're ignorant of what the ability does."

"And that is?"

"Regal Presence shows you who the king is," Jeric replied.

It was my turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

"The Regal Presence ability builds trust between a king and their subjects by showing everyone who looks upon them exactly who their king is at their core. You feel the urge to bow because the man you stand before is someone you deem it necessary for you to bow to. You are honest with him because he is someone you deem it necessary to be honest with. You trust him because you deem him someone worthy of your trust."

This was not what I'd expected to hear. "I'm bowing because I want to bow."

"Yes. Knowing who he is as not just a person, but your king, makes you feel like you need to bow in his presence."

"He's that good."

"You've stood before him. What do you think?"

"I think he feels and looks like the greatest man I've ever met."

"So, you bow to him."

It took me several seconds to process. "It's not mind control?"

"Far from it."

I leaned back and placed my arms along the back of the couch. This was not the answer I'd expected. "Are all kings like him?"

"No," Torvac snapped. "Only six are worthy of Torvac's bow."

Misk shook his head. "Ignore Torvac. Your response to a given king is based on what you value in others. For myself, I only feel the urge to bow when in the presence of five of the eleven kings."

I blinked. "How many of the kings have you met?"

"They've all tried to convince me to relocate to their kingdoms, so I'm well acquainted with all of them."

I turned to Torvac. "What about you?"

Torvac winced. "Torvac met kings when Torvac was on trial."

I'd been wondering why he was so calm back there. Misk and the others had been calm, but it was a forced calm. Torvac was entirely unbothered by the situation. "You've been through this before?"

"Yes, Torvac told Friend Arnold this."

I searched my memory but couldn't find a trace of any story that would involve a trail that required all the kings to be involved. "When?"

"When Torvac slap nobles' brats."

I'd remembered that story but didn't think it was related. "I'm not sure I follow. How did slapping someone require every king to turn up at your trial?"

Misk rolled his eyes. "Torvac likes to leave out the part that one of the nobles' brats in question was the son of the king of Haspren and that he nearly killed them."

"Torvac implies this when Torvac says Torvac must leave kingdom very quickly."

"That was you!" Redbeard shouted in awe. "I need to toast your health."

Torvac sighed but didn't seem tired or overwhelmed. "This why Torvac not mention specifics. Everyone wants buy Torvac drink. King of Haspren very hated. Torvac only one man. Cannot drink all drinks. Torvac try once. Orlana very angry with Torvac. Torvac get in much trouble."

Redcliff either didn't hear or refused to listen to what Torvac said as he ran to the bar, scanning the labels on the bottles. He snatched one off the shelf and filled two glasses before jumping back over the bar and rushing to Torvac, thrusting it towards him.

Torvac took the glass, like a man resigned to his fate, but I noticed the edge of his mouth twitch up. He was happy with the recognition.

Redcliff grinned. "Glory."

Torvac inclined his head. "Glory."

Then they drank.

My understanding of international politics was extremely limited. I knew there were eleven kingdoms, with eleven kings, four of which were women, and that each kingdom had a different name, but not a lot beyond that. However, Salem had warned me to never go to Haspren. It was one of two kingdoms that still practiced contract slavery, and outsiders had no legal standing or protection, unless they were a noble, level 80 adventurer, or a champion.

Redcliff lowered his glass, took Torvac's empty glass from him, deposited both at the bar, and then took a seat in his chair with a happy smile on his face.

I turned to Torvac. "So, you're famous?"

"Infamous," Misk corrected.

"He's a legend," Redcliff stated.

Torvac sighed, still trying to fight a grin, but doing a worse job of keeping it in check.

I turned to Jeric because this wasn't the conversation I wanted to have. "So, I bowed to the king because I believe he's a man worthy of bowing to."

Jeric nodded. "The effect of the ability is well understood. It's why seven of the eleven kingdoms require their king to take the ability upon gaining the class. It shows their people whether or not they are worthy of the position they hold."

"And if they aren't?"

"Then the kingdom needs to find another king," Misk replied.

"Has that happened?"

"Once. A lot of good people died that day. Why are you scowling?"

I hadn't noticed I was. "Probably because I just realised all my efforts to prevent myself from bowing have been an utter waste of time."

Torvac erupted in laughter.

Jeric sighed. "I would have told you this if you asked."

"I was afraid it was taboo or that you were all under some sort of charm effect. If you weren't, then I was essentially asking you to teach me to lie to a good man."

"Why mention it now, then?"

"The king might execute us the moment we finish writing these confessions, so it doesn't feel like something I need to worry about."

Jeric leapt to his feet, glaring. "Have you not been listening to what we just said?"

I wasn't used to Jeric being angry with me. "What do you mean?"

Jeric raised his hand, pointing his finger at me. "The man you stood before. The man you confessed to. Does he seem like the sort of man who will execute you for doing the right thing?"

"No."

"Does he seem like a coward who will throw away the lives of his subjects to appease the anger of some foreign king?"

"No, but we're five people. He'll be putting his entire kingdom at risk if he protects us."

Jeric threw up his hands, scoffing. "Do you think that matters to him?"

"It has to."

"I'm not asking you what you would do. I'm asking you what you think he will do."

"What?"

I'd been on the receiving end of people supporting the king through me, but I'd never been on the receiving end of those protecting the king from my criticism or perceived criticism. It was intense.

"Arnold, if he believes we've done nothing wrong, who do you think he will side with?"

I thought about the feelings that being in the king's presence gave me and the impression I got when looking at him. There was only one answer that came to mind.

"He'll side with whoever he believes is innocent. And then do everything he can to make sure they receive justice."