Six Words [Chapters 27-30] Progression Fantasy (Patreon)

Hey peeps!

I made a slight change. The other Ring Warlock was named "Mizuka" and I changed it to "Nizuka" to avoid overlap with other M-names, lol

Hopefully it's not too confusing!

Shami

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“The Hantha Imperium somehow mingled the blood of demons into theirs.

Now, the Hanthan people can control monsters.

They use them as mounts in their military.”

- A quote from ‘Varinth’s Beginnings, a History Book’

            I awoke the next morning with my nose twitching.

            After a long stretch, I sat up, admiring how fluffy the pillows felt. My room smelled of stained wood and human musk. Last night, when I had gone to bed, these smells hadn’t been present. Why was my room so odiferous now?

            “You’ve absorbed the life essence of the dogs,” the Warden said with a chuckle. “Their keen noses influence much of their life. And now they’ll influence you.”

            I snorted, shook my head, and then stood.

            When I turned my attention to the ceiling, I estimated the ceiling was at least eleven feet above me—certainly too high for me to jump to before I became a Ring Warlock. But after last night, when I attempted to jump the wall, I suspected I would be even better today.

            I took a deep breath, crouched low, and then leapt.

            That was a terrible idea.

            With muscles I didn’t even realize I had, I slammed my shoulder into the ceiling, the side of my head and shoulder cracking the wooden beam. Then I crashed down to the floor, busting some of the floorboards with my weight.

            Groaning, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the damaged ceiling.

            Despite all the damage I had done to my room, I felt no pain. With a shaky hand, I rubbed my neck, shoulder, and head, surprised my skin wasn’t broken. Or my bones, for that matter.

            “The more creatures you take into your essence, the more strength to add,” the Warden said in a condescending tone. “I thought you had learned this already, Rimon-ves.”

            My legs…

            They felt energetic and powerful—much more than ever before. I couldn’t believe it. How much stronger could I get?

            I could probably leap over the castle walls now.

            Enthusiastic and quite awake, I leapt to my feet. I dressed in silk robes, and then went for the double doors. The moment I threw them open, I gasped.

            Oh, the spiders…

            I had almost forgotten how thoroughly they had moved in. Their webs hung across the entire hallway ceiling, so thick I almost couldn’t see through them.

            Hundreds of flies, mosquitos, gnats, and bees were stuck in the webs, their squirming insect bodies causing everything to jiggle. The monster spiders scurried over the webs and wrapped up their prey, but I had no idea the castle had such a gigantic infestation. I hadn’t seen many bugs until this morning.

            Where had they all come from?

            Craning my head back to get a better look at everything, I spotted the biggest monster spider of them all.

            Kumo.

            He had grown. The spider was now half my size—at least eighty pounds.

            Kumo descended from the webs, his long legs spinning out silk as he glided himself to the floor and then stood in front of me. His eight eyes glistened brightly. Kumo enthusiastically rubbed his two front legs together.

            “Good morning,” I whispered. “I hope you slept well.”

            “Te… Te… Te…” Kumo sputtered and garbled.

            I held my breath, stunned to silence.

            Was… Kumo trying to speak? He hadn’t been capable of that before…

            Kumo stretched out his two front legs and touched me with the tips of his hairy spider limbs. With gentle motions, he seemingly caressed my pant legs. It didn’t seem threatening, so I allowed it, but this made me uneasy.

            “Master…” Kumo sucked in air and spoke like someone who couldn’t fully open their mouth. “So kind… Master… The insects… The insects… Look… Gaze upon… Your enemies.”

            My heart hammered.

            The voice, the way Kumo spoke—everything was unnatural and strained. Did spiders have lips? Or a tongue? How was he speaking?

            The Warden laughed. “You mean you don’t understand? You’ve fed the spiders the life essence of humans over and over. Of course the monster would learn to speak—humans are known for their brains. And look what you’ve done to it! You’ve given it enough intelligence to realize how disgusted you are by its presence.”

            Kumo stared up at me, his eight eyes wet.

            After a few calming breaths, I tried to settle my nerves. Kumo had done nothing to earn my contempt. Everything that had happened to him was my doing. To show respect, I knelt to meet his eye level.

            “Kumo,” I said. “Thank you for catching the flies.”

            The monster spider tapped his two chelicerae—the pair of pincer fangs that spiders could manipulate. With each click, click, it seemed as though Kumo were trying to form words, or perhaps think of the correct phrasing.

            “They’re spies…” Kumo hissed out a breath. “The insects… Are spies… Sent to… Watch you…”

            “Spies?” I asked.

            Kumo tapped his chelicerae once again, his body tensing. But I didn’t understand. Who were they spies for?

            Then it struck me all at once.

            Nizuka’s six words were indestructible, queen, hive, control, control, deadly. I hadn’t given much thought to hive and control, but now it all came crashing together in my imagination. Nizuka controlled the insects.

            “Some carry… Venom…” Kumo gently grazed his legs on my shoulders. “Venom… Bad for… Humans…”

            Although I didn’t much like being touched, not even a little bit, I allowed this. Had Kumo saved my life? Had he—and his hundreds of siblings—prevented Nizuka from harming me with her bizarre magic?

            I patted his leg in return, trying to mimic the spider’s affection.

            Then I stood.

            “Did Nizuka send these bugs?” I asked, cold.

            “You know the answer already,” the Warden replied. “I’m surprised you even asked.”

            “She can control all insects?”

            “Just about.”

            Kumo watched me, never really moving from his spot directly in front of me. I offered the arachnid a half smiled.

            “Thank you,” I whispered. “I owe you a great debt, Kumo.”

            “You… Save me…” Kumo rubbed his legs together. “You… Save family… Kumo owes… You… Debt…”

            Then the monster spider stepped aside. When I went to walk by, Kumo lowered his body, almost like he was bowing. Was he? Was the spider trying to show me respect?

            I appreciated him, and his loyalty.

            But now, I had to prepare myself for Nizuka’s arrival. Since she saw fit to spy on me, perhaps even make an attempt on my life, I knew I couldn’t take this meeting lightly. We’d either need to come to an agreement, or I would have to become the sole Ring Warlock who watched over the Rovik Prefecture.

*六つの言葉*

            I slid the door of the bathhouse open and stepped inside.

            This bathhouse smelled of salt, moss, and ashes. I never been able to detect such scents, but now my nose was practically twitching with all its enhanced capabilities. Since absorbing so much life essence, I was becoming superhuman.

            I shook that thought away.

            Technically, those who lived in the keep had their own bathhouse, but Yuna didn’t watch over that one, so I didn’t want to visit it. Instead, I strode straight to the edge of the cold water and waited for her to emerge from her room.

            It only took a few seconds for her door to gracefully slid open.

            “Hello?” Yuna asked, smiling. “Is someone there?”

            “It’s me,” I said.

            She caught her breath. Then Yuna quickly fell to her knees and bowed until her forehead touched the stone floor. “Rimon-nox. It is an honor that you’ve come to visit me.”

            After I quickly stripped off my clothing, I stepped into the water. Then I sighed and motioned her up. “You may stand, Yuna-kain. There’s no need to show me that deep of respect.”

            Yuna hesitantly lifted her head, her inky black hair cascading down her face, though it bothered her naught. “That’s not true. You’re the new lord of this castle—and the one who revived our crops. And managed to get me medical supplies.”

            I dunked my head until my hair was wet, and then splashed up. Yuna had retreated to her room and returned with all the soaps necessary to clean me—and she even brought a new jar this time… One made of gold.

            “This will help you stay healthy,” she said as she opened the metal jar and scooped out some ointment. “If you apply it to your face, you will remain youthful, and sicknesses that travel with someone’s breath will do you no harm.”

            I took the ointment from her and hesitantly applied it to one of my cheeks. “Thank you.”

            When Yuna bowed her head this time, she bit her lip. “Rimon-nox…”

            “Yes?”

            “Why have you come here?”

            “I appreciate your company,” I said, applying the ointment everywhere. “Is something wrong?”

            She shook her head. “No. Forgive me for asking.”

            As I relaxed, my thoughts drifted to Nizuka. However, it was clear from Yuna’s thinly-pressed lips that something was on her mind. She pushed over jars of soap, and remained close to the edge of the water.

            I remained silent.

            Yuna finally broke. “Rimon-nox, you’ve done me so many favors already.”

            “You have another request?” I asked.

            She bowed her head deeply. “It’s just… You’ve done the impossible so far, and there’s something I want more than anything else. More than the crops and the medicine. A selfish request.”

            Selfish?

            She had piqued my curiosity.

            “What is it?” I whispered.

            Yuna didn’t immediately answer. I finished washing as she took her time to gather her words, and her courage. What could she possibly want? What did she consider selfish?

            “Can you give me back my sight?” Yuna asked, her voice barely audible. Then, much louder, she said, “You gave the crops life when everyone thought that impossible, and you managed to convince the castle physician to at least give me some medicine. I thought—perhaps—you might have magics that wove the fabric of fate. Somehow, you defy everything. Can you also mend what everyone said would never heal?”

            Yuna laced her fingers together and squeezed her hands together hard. She waited with bated breath, clearly hoping I would quickly answer.

            But it took me a moment. I thought back to the red elk, the dogs, and then to Kumo. I had altered myself and the spider. That meant I could give others life essence, and they could absorb it into themselves and gain the benefits, albeit at the cost of my blood.

            Was there a creature somewhere that, when absorbed, would cure someone’s blindness?

            “Of course not,” the Warden replied, a smile in his tone. “But now ask a different question. Is there a spirit or a demon who could heal blindness? Of course. They’re more powerful. More magical.”

            “Really?” I whispered.

            “I wouldn’t lie to you about this, Rimon-ves.”

            This new information fascinated me, but before I could voice it to Yuna, she scooted closer. With a shaky hand, she reached for the collar of her robes and tugged them loose so that they began to slide off her shoulders.

            “I would do anything for this, Rimon-nox,” she whispered. “I’d pay any price. Please, if you can.”

            Yuna went to remove her robes completely, but I half stood from the water and caught her clothing before it fell to the floor. Then I gently tugged the fabric back over her shoulder, setting it in place. Her robes were open down the middle, and she was quite beautiful, but I would never accept flesh as a payment.

            Not after everything I saw at the Scarlet Lantern.

            Yuna’s eyebrows knitted. She seemed confused, and I didn’t blame her. Most men would’ve taken the deal.

            “I’ll find a way to heal your eyesight,” I said, firm and confident. “Not because I want you indebted to me, but because I’m your lord, and this is my land. It’s only logical to make sure everyone under my care is the best they can be—because that makes my whole realm stronger.”

            With a shaky hand, Yuna rubbed her eyes. “You… will help me? For nothing?”

            “For your loyalty,” I quickly said. I closed her robes in the front and secured them with her belt. “For the times you helped me, even though you thought I was just a servant.”

            “I…”

            But she couldn’t seem to answer.

            Yuna’s lower lip quavered.

            “Ugh,” the Warden groaned in my ear. “You’re soft. Making her whole won’t necessarily strengthen your realm.”

            I ignored him.

            “Don’t worry about anything,” I muttered to Yuna. “I’ll handle it.”

            Finding a spirit or a demon who could heal Yuna would be difficult. At least, I suspected it would.

            “Thank you.” Tears spilled from Yuna’s eyes as she spoke. “Rimon-nox, thank you so much.”

            I found her crying awkward, but I remained close regardless. Having two trained physicians who could see would also be quite a boon.

            But first, I had to meet a Ring Warlock…

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Because of the demon blood, the Hanthan people were known for their volatile natures.

The Hantha Imperium became a nation of warriors.”

- A quote from ‘Varinth’s Beginnings, a History Book’

            Ketsu circled around me, fixing my clothing and tightening my silk belt. He examined me with a critical eye, straightening his glasses several times as he leaned in close. We were in the audience hall. Without all the people, it was vast and empty—lonely.

            “Is my family on their way?” I whispered.

            “Yes,” Ketsu replied. “But I suspect they’ll arrive a day or two after Nizuka’s visit.”

            “I see.”

            Mazun and Ryota stood off to the side, both with their swords at their side and their armor on their body. Their armor was an amalgamation of functionality and beauty, crafted with meticulous care.

            Each bladekeeper’s cuirass—the breastplate and backplate fastened together—was a masterpiece of lacquered iron and leather, interlaced with silk cords that shimmered like woven sunlight. The scales of the armor overlapped with the precision of a dragon’s hide, offering protection without sacrificing mobility.

            Their arms were shielded by sleeves of iron and leather that extended from wrist to shoulder, interspersed with chainmail for added flexibility. The lower half of their bodies were equally well-defended. Interwoven plates and chainmail covered only their thighs and shins, which allowed them the mobility to run, since not everything was weighed down with heavy armor.

            Each movement Mazun and Ryota made caused their armor to shift with a soft clinking sound, a reminder of their steadfast presence.

            “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Mazun stated.

            Ketsu huffed. “There’s no other way. We can’t avoid Nizuka. She sees everything. She probably already knows that Garrain is dead and we have a new Ring Warlock. If Rimon-nox isn’t here when she arrives, I suspect the worst will happen.”

            “She has a short temper, and we’re low on men.”

            Once Ketsu was done fixing my outfit, he stepped back and admired his work. With a forced smile, he whirled on his heel to face Mazun. “You never trust me. I told you I would handle this, and I did.”

            Ketsu clapped his hands loud enough that the sound echoed throughout the vast audience hall. The far door slid open, and two more individuals strode into the room.

            They were…

            Bladekeepers?

            They looked like bladekeepers. Both wore armor similar to Mazun’s and Ryota’s, though these two newcomers also wore helmets with antlers, and fierce masks over their face. They had exaggerated expressions of anger, with sharp teeth over the frowning mouths. The slits for the eyes weren’t large enough for me to see any of their faces.

            The two men carried swords at their sides.

            “Who are these two?” Ryota asked, genuinely surprised.

            “They’re Rimon-nox’s bladekeeper,” Ketsu sardonically replied. “At least, for as long as Nizuka is here.”

            Mazun’s brow furrowed as he stormed over to one of these new “bladekeepers.” Without hesitation, he grabbed the hilt of a sword and yanked it free from the scabbard.

            “Only those who have been blessed by the emperor can wield these,” Mazun yelled.

            But there was no sword.

            Mazun stared, dumbfounded.

            It was just a hilt, completely devoid of a blade.

            It was fake.

            Ketsu hurried over, practically sputtering with anger. “What is wrong with you? Hmm?” He took the hilt from Mazun and placed it back into the empty scabbard. “They’re not real bladekeepers. They’d never be able to lift those weapons! They’re pretending to be bladekeepers so that Nizuka doesn’t realize how weak we currently are.”

            After a calming breath, Mazun stepped away, his armor clinking. He said nothing.

            Ryota, on the other hand, chuckled. “Ah. Clever. An interesting strategy—so long as we don’t actually come to blows.”

            With a dramatic swish of his hand, Ketsu motioned to me. “As long as our new lord is charismatic enough, we should avoid conflict.” When Ketsu met my gaze, he seemed momentarily uncertain. “You do still have confidence that you will make friends with Nizuka, correct?”

            I nodded once. “I will make allies with Nizuka.”

            “Excellent.”

            “But even if I can’t, I always have the option to end her,” I said, icy.

            The Warden chuckled. “Oh? Do you, though?”

            Ketsu shook his head. “You shouldn’t kill her.” He gestured to me, and then to the room. “You think the prefecture runs itself? If you kill the southern ruler, we’ll have turmoil like you’ve never seen. And I hate to remind you, but we don’t have the forces necessary to occupy all of Rovik Prefecture. You have to think, Rimon-nox. You need time.”

            I rubbed the ring on my thumb and mulled this over. Ketsu was probably correct. Killing another Ring Warlock would probably lead to a lot of fighting. And perhaps the other Ring Warlocks in nearby prefectures would swoop in.

            It was best to just trick this woman into thinking I was an ally.

            “I can’t wait to see you try,” the Warden whispered.

            The fake bladekeepers went to stand behind my throne, their ominous masks adding an air of menace to the audience hall. Mazun and Ryota took their place on either side of the throne, but a step back, so that I was always forward.

            They both picked up their helmets and face masks, which had been waiting for them in their positions. Once they were fully dressed, all my bladekeepers appeared uniform and intimidating.

            Ketsu, on the other hand, sat on the blue pillow at the council’s table, the very height of bureaucratic stuffiness. He was the only one there, which made this slightly awkward, but I knew it was for the best. I wasn’t entirely sure about my council, and I didn’t want their advice at this moment—not when making a good impression was so important.

            “Stand straight,” Mazun growled under his breath. “You disrespect our lord with your poor posture.”

            Ryota shifted his stance until he was as rigid as a post. “Is this better, or should I turn into a statue to really impress everyone?”

            His sarcastic comment almost caused me to smile, but I reined it in. Nizuka would be here any moment, and I wanted to be as prepared as possible.

            “You should look prepared at all times,” Mazun stated, keeping his voice low.

            “I find that appearing unprepared actually has its own advantages,” Ryota muttered.

            “Of course you would say that—it’s the wisdom of bloodthirsty lunatics who secretly want conflict.”

            “Enough,” I said. With a slight turn, I offered each of them a glare. “We’re supposed to be unified in this. I won’t have my bladekeepers bickering.”

            That was just good advice from the Scarlet Lantern. None of the girls every argued in front of men visiting. We never wanted to look out of sorts, or out of control of our emotions or connections between people. After all, the lords who visited the Scarlet Lantern would sometimes voice secrets to the courtesans, and if those lords thought the women were untrustworthy, it could mean their life.

            A united front spoke to the competence of everyone involved.

            We had to maintain that image.

            Ryota and Mazun said nothing else.

            I took a seat on my throne and exhaled.

            Then the far door slid open. A castle servant stepped in and then held the door. They bowed deep as a whole swarm of individuals stepped into the audience hall. The first person, a short woman in a long black robe that trails behind her, hurried in with her head held high.

            She wore white face makeup that was so thick she had the complexion of snow. Her lips, as bright as embers, stood out because of it.

            “Ring Warlock Nizuka Banth and her entourage have arrived,” the short woman announced.

            Then the woman stepped aside and bowed.

            Four men entered the room, two in silks so extravagant, they sparkled in the lanternlight. The setting of the two suns added a red hue to the audience hall, and that added a fiery flare to their outfits.

            They were beautiful men—the type with soft hands and glistening hair.

            They were Nizuka’s consorts, no doubt in my mind.

            The other two men reminded me of Mazun and Ryota—they wore beautiful armor, helmets, and fearsome face masks. They also carried swords at their waists, and I suspected they were the ones crafted from lunar metal.

            Nizuka’s bladekeepers.

            And then the Ring Warlock finally entered the room.

            Or…

            Perhaps it was her?

            I narrowed my eyes as everyone stepped aside to allow a cloaked individual forward.

            The person hobbled and jerked as they moved, as though each step was unsteady. Their cloak covered them from head to toe, and even dragged on the ground as they moved. The hood of the cloak was pulled forward—no one wearing such an outfit could possibly see. There was no hole for someone’s face—no slits in the fabric for eyes.

            Despite that, the cloaked individual stumbled forward.

            Buzzing filled the audience hall. It was soft at first, but it grew louder and louder as the cloaked one approached me.

            To my shock—and revulsion—bugs lay scattered across the floor wherever the cloaked person had walked. It was as if they were leaving a trail of centipedes, pill bugs, crickets, beetles, and ants.

            The bugs squirmed on the floor, and then began their slow match after the cloaked individual, following them. The centipedes were fast enough to rush back to the cloak and then slither in through the folds, but the other insects were not so agile.

            Once the cloaked person reached my dais, they stopped.

            The buzzing… It was terribly loud now.

            The cloak…

            It looked as though it hung on a person—at least, from a distance. There were shoulders, and a head, but I realized then it was all a show.

            The cloak writhed with life, the buzzing from within, betraying the fact that his was just an ungodly hive of creatures masquerading as a human.

            Now I understood why Ketsu had called her an abomination.

            “She has mastered much of her magic,” the Warden whispered in my ear. “She shed her human flesh to master her abilities. The stronger one becomes, the more they realize how limiting skin and bone really are…”

            “I am Nizuka Banth,” the cloaked individual said, her voice laced with an odd chittering noise that reminded me of bugs. “And you must be the new Ring Warlock of Wist Castle.”

            I stood, my skin crawling, a terrible shiver running down my spine. “I am Rimon.” As the new Ring Warlock, was I supposed to assume the family name of Wist? I suspected so, though I disliked the prospect. It reminded me of Garrain…

            So I didn’t give a family name.

            Nizuka’s consorts walked up to either side of her and then knelt. Her bladekeepers flanked her, their masks turned to face me. The short woman with the pale face hurried to stand next to Nizuka, her lips upturned in a coy smile.

            “I received your letter,” I said, hoping to move to the point of this meeting. “You had a matter of grave importance to discuss with me?”

            “I came to discuss it with Garrain,” Nizuka replied with a chuckle. “Now I see a child has taken his place.”

            Her “head” tilted, but it was just the mass of insects under the cloak shifting. The lumps and odd pulsating of the creatures made the simplest of gestures horrific.

            The beetles, pill bugs, and crickets finally caught up to the cloak and scurried underneath. The buzzing continued. How many bugs were underneath the fabric? Thousands. Perhaps tens of thousands.

            “I killed Garrain,” I said, no hint of malice in my tone.

            “So I’ve heard. The people of your castle say you’re a Ring Warlock of death.”

            If I wanted to make an ally of Nizuka, I couldn’t just be intimidating. I had to make her feel comfortable. That was another lesson I had learned from the Red Lantern. If the men visiting were relaxed, they would be more generous with their coins.

            I nodded. “I do wield death, but only to those who clearly deserve it. Garrain was flippant with his magic—and I can’t stand that.”

            “Oh?” Nizuka tilted her head to the other side, the lumpy mass shifting awkwardly. “Do elaborate. What do you know of magic?”

            “Magic is the heart of power.” I stepped forward, and off the dais. I approached Nizuka without fear or disgust on my face. “I have always admired it. Craved it. Those with magic are above mere mortals—they exist on higher plane, far above others.”

            I stood directly in front of the buzzing, chittering cloak.

            Nizuka didn’t budge, though her squirming body continued to jiggle.

            “And Garrain didn’t treat his position with the respect you thought he should?” Nizuka asked.

            “He visited brothels in Ritmo City on a regular basis. Tell me—do you think he treated his station with the respect it deserved?”

            “Of course not,” she hissed. “Garrain was weak.”

            “I agree. And I must be honest, I feared meeting you because I thought you would be the same.”

            “Hs, hs, hs.” It was an odd series of sounds that I suspected was Nizuka chortling.

            “But you’re not the same,” I whispered. “You’re clearly superior to Garrain in every way.”

            “Oh? Tell me, Rimon-lin, what makes you say that?”

            She sounded intrigued, and the buzzing in her cloak intensified.

            But before I answered, I had to hold back a gag. Nizuka had addressed with the honorific of lin, which was reserved for loved ones and families. The courtesan at the Scarlet Lantern could address me with lin—and no one else.

            Did she honestly think us family, just because I have a ring?

            No.

            Obviously not. She had Garrain’s predecessor. Nizuka didn’t think of me as family—this was just a poor attempt at manipulation. She wanted me to trust her, but her act of intimacy only made me angry.

            Instead of voicing my rage, I bottled it all up and forced a smile.

            With a fluid motion, I lifted my left hand—the one without the ring—and gently grazed it across the crest of Nizuka’s hood, as though I were to caress a long-lost lover.

            “I’ve never seen a human embrace magic like you have,” I whispered. “It’s… admirable.”

            Her bladekeepers both placed their hands on the hilts of their blades.

            Nizuka’s two consorts shot me wide-eyed glances, almost disgusted, as though they couldn’t believe what I was saying.

            And while I couldn’t see him, I practically heard Ketsu cringe.

            But did I love magic so much I could overlook a pile of insects pretending to be human?

            No. It wasn’t true. I didn’t admire magic so highly—but clearly Nizuka did, and if I wanted her to relax, and trust me a little, she had to think she knew me. And that we were similar.

            The insects of her cloak writhed faster than before.

            “Hm,” Nizuka muttered. “What a fascinating Ring Warlock you are, Rimon-lin. And you are superior to Garrain, but by how much? He was loathsome. And incompetent. A disgrace to the Ring Warlocks of the Tze Empire. It shouldn’t be difficult to prove yourself better than him.”

            I stepped back and maintained my smile. “I’m making it my top priority.”

            “Good. The reason I traveled this far north was because I’m hunting a demon. Rimon-lin, if you wish to prove yourself competent, you will help me slay the mother spider demon who stalks through the darkness of your woods.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Loyalty is a virtue few truly understand.

A warrior knows that loyalty is the duty you owe to the people and places you’re bonded to.”

- A quote from ‘The Teachings of Shoki’

            “The… mother spider demon?” I asked, my words slow and deliberate.

            Nizuka nodded and several millipedes poured through a small hole in the fabric. Half a dozen of them squirmed around on the floor until their legs found purchase and they scurried back to Nizuka.

            “Why do you say it’s a mother?” I feared what she may say, but I had to inquire.

            Nizuka growled, the buzzing in her dark cloak growing louder. “She’s a foul beast who captures human men and impregnates herself before consuming them.”

            Captures… men?

            “That wretch has birthed thousands of monsters across Rovik Prefecture, and I’ll have no more. The fiend must be made to suffer.” Nizuka’s buzzing grew to the point her cloak trembled. “Spiders are vile. I want them all purged from our prefecture. All of them.”

            “Don’t spiders provide us benefits?” I asked.

            Ketsu bowed his head and quickly responded. “Spiders cull the pests that plague our fields and people.”

            The insects in Nizuka’s cloak—or perhaps they were her?—began pouring from the fabric. Hundreds of wasps, bees, flies, and mosquitos took to the air. They gushed from small tears, and then circled tightly around her, their thousands of wings creating a deafening hum of infestation.

            Then the many ground-based bugs swarmed out the bottom. They scurried across the floor in blackish waves of movement. Some red centipedes stuck out from the masses; their shimming crimson hiding like blood.

            Beetles with horns and pincher bugs with sharp needle-like fangs all rushed outward.

            Nizuka’s consorts shuddered, but didn’t move. The insects crawled over them in waves.

            The bladekeepers took several steps backward, their hands shaking, but they maintained grips on their weapons. When the bugs drew near, I practically heard their panicked breaths.

            The short woman, on the other hand, gleeful watched the insects swarm toward her. She practically giggled as millipedes crawled their way up under her robes.

            The cloak…

            It fell to the floor, empty.

            Nizuka was the swarm. She was the queen—the hive.

            The bugs didn’t approach me. They stayed at least three feet away at all times, even the ones who flew through the air. They weren’t as kind to Ketsu or my bladekeepers, however. They buzzed over them, landing on exposed flesh, causing them to twitch and grimace. Ketsu visibly tried not to smack them away, but it was clearly taking all his willpower.

            I remembered what Kumo had said about the bugs—how they carried venom that was deadly.

            All of Nizuka’s magics made sense to me, now. I understood why she had chosen her six words. They all synergized.

            “You forget about her indestructible nature,” the Warden whispered. “Nizuka can only die once all the insects that make her body are destroyed. If you forget to kill even one, she can reform herself, given enough time.”

            A disgusting, but useful, ability.

            “I control the insects,” Nizuka shouted, her disembodied voice somehow emanating from the buzzing. “I can curtail their ravaging with a mere thought. Our prefecture needs no spiders! They’re vile monsters who aren’t fit to set even a single one of their eight legs on my territory!”

            She did have a short temper.

            I maintained my calm.

            “I understand,” I said. “But why did you come to me? Why not just catch this demon and be done with it?”

            The buzzing intensified. “I told you, Rimon-lin—the spider demon fled my territory and stormed into yours. She hides in the trees of your forest, waiting for her chance to snatch more men from your fields to make her eggs and hatch her monsters.”

            This demon was Kumo’s mother, there was no other explanation. Had the demon killed my people to make him? I would need to investigate.

            “And you want me to help hunt her down?” I asked.

            The bugs all shifted direction. The ones in the air flew for the cloak, and the ones on the floor rushed to the hem of the outfit. Together, they flooded back into the black garment, filling it once more with their thousands of tiny bodies.

            It looked like…

            Nizuka was just growing upward right in front of me, her body taking shape under the fabric as the bugs piled atop each other underneath. Once fully formed, she once again looked like a human draped in a cloak. At least, in shape.

            In a quieter voice that was still laced with chittering, Nizuka said, “I want you to exterminate the rest of the spiders in your domain. I have business to attend to—I can’t waste more time chasing this elusive pest through the woods. End the fiend.”

            “I thought you said you wanted my help, not to handle this for you?”

            Nizuka practically hissed. “I’m helping by driving the vermin north. You should crush them as they arrive. Allow them no sanctuary, and we’ll rid Rovik Prefecture of all spiders, both demonic and mundane.”

            This wasn’t a request. It was a demand.

            To make matters worse, her desires didn’t align with mine. Kumo and the other spiders were intelligent, and obviously not filled with wicked intentions. They had saved me, and I had helped them grow stronger. Killing them all now would be foolish.

            I knew nothing about the demon spider, and I supposed, from Nizuka’s information, it sounded like a menace, but I wanted to see that for myself before I made another decision.

            However, tonight wasn’t about arguing—it was about making allies.

            “You’re going to lie to her?” the Warden asked, almost startling me. His constant presence, even in my thoughts, wasn’t comforting.

            “I will help you,” I said to Nizuka.

            But the Warden was correct. I wasn’t going to do as she asked—I just wanted her to leave while I attempted to figure things out.

            Nizuka exhaled and a few bees escaped her clothing. They buzzed around her head, landing on the outside of the fabric, their bright yellow stripes vibrant against the black cloak.

            “You are far wiser than Garrain,” Nizuka stated. “May his corpse boil in the light of the two suns.” After another huff that made me consider how she drew breath, Nizuka continued. “Hopefully you rid the world of his bloodline. That is the most effective way to make certain someone is forgotten.”

            I ignored her comment and bowed my head. “I’m glad we can work together for the glory of our province, Nizuka-lin.”

            The honorific rolled off my tongue like a bad taste. It was the only time during our conversation that I feared I might’ve slipped up.

            “Send me the demon’s head.”

            “What?” I stood straight. “You want the demon’s head?”

            The bees buzzed around her. “Of course. That demon’s flesh will feed my larvae.”

            “Very well,” I muttered. “Once the demon is slain, I will send you the head.”

            Nizuka chuckled. Then, with hobbled movements, she turned to leave. “Good, good. It seems you truly aren’t like Garrain, yet when I look around, I see some of his followers.”

            Ketsu straightened his posture. “Rimon-nox has culled the castle of those who were loyal to Garrain.” He bowed his head. “I assure you our new lord is nothing like Garrain. He is more thoughtful, wise, and amenable to mutually beneficial agreements.”

            That was a lot of words to say that I was friendly.

            “I pleased to hear this,” Nizuka said. “Rimon-lin, I expect our relationship will be a profitable one for the both of us. I will return in winter for the usual fiscal discussions. Until then…”

            Her consorts both stood and walked alongside her. The short woman with the white makeup was next, but she offered me another smile before hurrying after her lord. The bladekeepers went last, and I watched them go until I couldn’t.

            For several minutes afterward, I remained still and silent. I wanted to make certain that Nizuka and her entourage were gone.

            “Well, that was interesting,” Ketsu sardonically said.

            “Shh.” I turned my attention to the ceiling.

            Flies clung to the rafters.

            She was still watching me.

            I turned on my heel and motioned to Ketsu, Mazun, and Ryota. “You three, come with me.”

*六つの言葉*

            The four of us climbed the stairs all the way to the fourth story of the keep.

            The instant we made it to the hallway before my bedroom, Mazun and Ryota both sucked in air. Their gazes were locked to the high ceilings—and the tangle of cobwebs. Ketsu, who hadn’t glanced up in some time, apparently, followed their gazes and gasped.

            “What is this?” Ketsu demanded.

            The spiders were still invisible, but all the insects weren’t. The small bodies were tightly bound in web, and appeared to be white grapes caught in a tapestry of nightmares.

            The flies from the audience hall followed us, just as I suspected they would. They buzzed around the ceiling, and each eventually got caught in a spider’s trap.

            I motioned to them struggling.

            “Nizuka,” I whispered.

            Mazun, Ryota, and Ketsu observed the wiggling flies with interest. And then, like a night terror made real, dozens of spiders appeared from the darkness. They scuttled across the webs, their black eyes glittering in the lantern light as they lunged for their prey.

            “Ahh!” Ketsu leapt straight up and into Mazun.

            My blade keeper stumbled and grabbed Ketsu, his face twisted in shock. “What’s wrong with you?”

            “They’re monsters,” Ketsu said, breathless. He practically climbed onto Mazun, his fright apparent. “So many monsters! Can’t you see them?”

            Mazun—still half holding Ketsu—ripped his sword from its scabbard. The sparkling blade was a sight, and the spiders stopped everything they were doing. Then the monsters backed away to the deepest corners of the ceiling.

            And then disappeared once again.

            “No.” I stepped in front of Mazun. “Put your weapon away. These are my friends.” I turned my attention to the ceiling. “Kumo, show yourself. We must speak at once.”

            “Your friends?” Ryota asked, one eyebrow lifted, his lip slightly upturned in a smile.

            Before I could reply, a single gigantic spider appeared among the webs. Kumo, answering my call, spun himself a tread of web and descended to us, his movements slow, his eight eyes locked on Mazun’s blade.

            I motioned for Mazun to put it away. He didn’t complain, but he did exhale before sheathing his weapon.

            Ketsu ducked behind Mazun, still trembling, his glasses almost falling of his nose.

            “Aren’t you half Hathan?” Mazun hissed. “Shouldn’t you be at home with monsters?”

            “How dare you,” Ketsu snapped back. He moved away from Mazun and then stepped behind Ryota. “I care nothing for the ilk of demons. I’ve lived in the empire for my entire life, thank you very much.”

            Mazun rolled his eyes.

            Ignoring their bickering, I knelt to face Kumo. The spider rubbed his front legs together.

            “Yes…” Kumo muttered in his awkward speech. “I am… Here…”

            “That thing can speak?” Ketsu paled. “The night has forsaken us.”

            “Plenty of monsters are intelligent enough to speak simple sentences,” Ryota muttered. Of the three of them, he was completely and utterly unphased. He almost seemed more relaxed than before.

            “Kumo,” I whispered. “I need your help. Do you know if there’s a spider demon near us? Somewhere in the woods?”

            Kumo stopped rubbing his legs. “Yes…”

            “Is she your mother?”

            The spider was quiet for a long moment. Then, it clicked its fangs together. “Yes… My mother… Saiki… Beautiful…”

            Saiki?

            “Thank you,” I said.

            “You’re thanking it?” Ketsu practically threw himself to the floor in a dramatic display of his disgust.

            I gestured for him to join me. “Kumo is quite gentle. If you gave him a chance, you would see.”

            Ketsu frowned. “I would never touch such a thing.”

            Ryota, on the other hand, stepped forward. Ketsu, left without a body between him and the monsters, moved behind Mazun for a second time.

            “He looks gentle.” Ryota knelt next to Kumo and slowly reached out a hand. He didn’t touch the spider—he waited a few inches from the monster until everything seemed calm.

            Then Kumo reached out a leg and accepted Ryota’s presence.

            “You’re not afraid?” I asked.

            “Monsters are kept as pets in the Hantha Imperium,” Ryota said matter-of-factly. He caressed Kuma’s side, no fear in his movements. “Hanthans can control monsters. It’s in their blood.”

            “Can you?” I asked.

            “I’m only half.” Ryota withdrew his hand and stood. “So I lack that ability—but I don’t lack empathy. It’s clear that Kumo trusts you, and since you’re my lord, I consider this monster an ally.”

            Mazun and Ketsu didn’t appear to be as confident as Ryota. They maintained their distance.

            But that didn’t matter. If Kumo knew the demon was nearby, he probably knew how to find her.

            I stood. “Kumo, can you lead us to your mother? We need to speak with her.”

Chapter Thirty

“The Tze Empire and the Hantha Imperium have engaged in countless wars.

Bad blood runs between both nations.”

- A quote from ‘Varinth’s Beginnings, a History Book’

            Kumo led us down the many flights of stairs and straight to the garden door. My bladekeepers kept close, but Ketsu fell behind. When I slid open the door, and allowed Kumo to dart out into the darkness, Ketsu stopped.

            “I’ll wait here,” he said. “For your inevitable return.”

            I turned to face him. “I’d prefer if you came with us.”

            “You can’t be serious,” Mazun muttered.

            The Warden chortled. “Are you going to offer him up as a sacrifice? What a wonderful idea.”

            I didn’t reply.

            With a lifted eyebrow, Mazun said, “Ketsu-kain is no warrior.”

            To my surprise, Ketsu nodded along with his words. “That’s true.”

            “And he’s frail.”

            Ketsu waggled a finger. “Also true.”

            “When we come to blows with the spider demon, this historian will be nothing more than dead weight.”

            “I agree.” Ketsu shrugged. “There’s no arguing the man’s logic. I should probably stay behind. So, goodbye! Have a wonderful trek! Don’t come back until the situation is handled!”

            I ignored all the commentary. “Ketsu-rah, I appreciate your insight. You helped convince Nizuka to trust me, and I know you’re familiar with the lands around the castle. Not just the geography, but the history as well. I’d feel better about this journey if you were close.”

            Ketsu’s expression shifted almost instantly. He had been cold, stiff, and closed off, but my words seemed to melt him. Ketsu relaxed, and even slightly smiled. “You value my input that greatly?”

            “Yes. I do.”

            “Ah. Well… but… I really cannot fight the demon. Even with your magic, Rimon-nox.”

            “I don’t intend to fight the spider demon,” I said matter-of-factly. “Why do you think Kumo and his siblings live near my room? I gave them shelter. And as far as I’m concerned, they’re now citizens of my realm.”

            Ryota’s eyebrows shot for his hairline.

            Both Mazun and Ketsu appeared more horrified, as though I had made a terrible mistake. Ketsu stepped closer to me, his hands shaking so badly he had to clutch them together.

            “You lied to Nizuka?” Ketsu shook his head. “I must advise against this, Rimon-nox. She will figure this out. She will take this as an insult. And then she’ll do something about it.”

            “And Nizuka can’t be killed,” Mazun chimed in. “People have tried. Garrain tried. She just… indestructible.”

            “I know how to kill her,” I stated.

            My words seemed to chill the others.

            “I need to kill all her insects,” I whispered. “And make sure none escape. If things do come to war, I’ll be prepared. I only lied to get here away from here—to give me time to improve myself and my castle.”

            Silence.

            At first, I thought they would all disagree with my position, but Ryota was actually the first to do anything. He laughed. It was more a chuckle, but he was still genuinely amused.

            “Oh, well, I never cared for the Ring Warlock,” he said. “If you get rid of her, perhaps the southern half of Rovik will finally come under proper management.”

            Mazun tapped his fingers over the scales of his armor, his gaze falling to the floor. He was more introspective than the others.

            “I think you should be careful how loudly you talk about such plans, Rimon-nox,” Mazun muttered. Then he met my gaze. “Surprise is as much a weapon as a sword.”

            When I faced Ketsu, I knew he still didn’t agree. His hands were so tightly intertwined, his knuckles were white. Nothing about this plan resonated with him.

            There was no point in discussing it, though. I had made up my mind. For my entire life, I had lived as someone else’s property, watching my family used as objects.

            I wouldn’t go through that again. I wouldn’t be controlled by Nizuka, and I wouldn’t allow her to harm any of my people—not the spiders, not anyone.

            “Come,” I said, motioning to the door. “Kumo is likely waiting for us. We should hurry to the woods before day breaks.”

*六つの言葉*

            The night wrapped around me like a cool, velvet cloak as I strode through the woods. The air was thick with the scent of summer. Kumo scurried ahead, guiding the way.

            Ryota walked in front, with Mazun in the very back, both of them in their full armor with masks. They kept their hands on the hilt of their blades, ever vigilant.

            Each step I took was a symphony of soft sounds—the crunch of leaves underfoot, the occasional snap of a twig, and the distant croak of a bullfrog. Fireflies, like tiny living stars, flickered into existence around me. They floated lazily through the air, casting a soft, ethereal glow that danced upon the trunks of ancient trees and lit the path ahead with a spectral light.

            “Female fireflies cannot fly,” Ketsu stated. He kept my pace, walking alongside me, his commentary never ending. He knew much about everything, it seemed. “More female fireflies have no wings, or their wings are so small, and thin, they cannot support their weight.”

            I nodded once. “I didn’t know that.”

            “Fireflies lay eggs, and they glow. Most people don’t know that either, because the eggs actually react to outside stimulus. If you tap them, they will emit light to mimic the tapping.” Ketsu brushed back his hair. “I don’t care for insects, but the fireflies are a delightful exception.”

            “Uh-huh. That’s great. But—do you know anything about the spirits or demons who run through these woods? That would be more helpful in this situation.”

            “I know only of the ones that Garrain interacted with. He told me of Mori, Spirit of the Mountain Pass, but his interactions with that spirit went poorly. I’m happy to know you’ve mended such relations.”

            “Nothing about the demons?” I whispered.

            I paused by a towering cedar, its rough bark cool under my fingertips, and watched as a particularly bold firefly settled on a nearby leaf. Its light pulsed rhythmically, a heartbeat in the night.

            But…

            Something else was nearby.

            I felt its life essence.

            Ryota, Mazun, and Ketsu all came to a halt around me. I doubted they could sense the creature, but perhaps they saw signs of a demon nearby. Was it the spider? I hoped so.

            Overhead, the sky was a canvas of midnight blue, dotted with stars that peeked through gaps in the foliage. The moon, a slender crescent, hung low, casting a gentle silver light that mingled with the golden glow of the fireflies. It was a scene from a dream, a moment suspended in time where the ordinary and the magical coexisted in perfect harmony.

            The powerful life essence I felt moved away from us, retreating.

            Kumo came hurrying back down the path, his massive spider body barely disturbing the dead leaves and twigs as he moved.

            “Come… She is near…” Kumo half turned, obviously wanting us to follow.

            Ketsu wrung his hands, his breathing shallow. “I don’t care for the wilderness. I prefer to be indoors. At all times.”

            “I think this forest is beautiful,” I whispered.

            “It’s cursed as far as I’m concerned. Nothing good ever really happens in the quiet loneliness between trees.”

            I shook my head.

            When Ryota and Mazun urged us to continue moving, I did just that, though I was confused on why Ketsu hated this place. It was wondrous, and far more inviting than the grime of Ritmo City, my old home.

            Why did he prefer the indoors so much? Was it just to read?

            “Years ago, your historian’s mother tried to outrun soldiers through woods very similar to this,” the Warden said, chuckling. “She was trying to cross the border. The woman didn’t make it, of course. The soldiers beheaded her. Then your historian was made a eunuch and taken to a nearby temple.”

            “What?” I snapped.

            My sudden outburst startled everyone. Ryota and Mazun drew their lunar blades—even Kumo leapt onto the highest branch and flashes his incredible fangs. Ketsu dove behind one of the larger tree trunks, his body trembling.

            Everyone glanced around, their eyes wild and wide.

            “I, uh, apologize.” I held up my hands. “It was just me. I, uh, shouldn’t have shouted.”

            “Are you out of your mind?” Mazun whispered. “These woods are infested. You should keep your voice low at all costs.”

            Ryota snorted back a laugh as he tucked his blade away. “That’s the way to show respect. Betraying our new lord and asking if he’s lost his mind.”

            With his face reddening, Mazun also sheathed his weapon. “My apologies, Rimon-nox.” He bowed. “It won’t happen again.”

            Ryota clearly thought this was hilarious. I didn’t mind Mazun’s outburst. He was obviously concerned, and I needed to mind his advice. He was the expert, after all.

            My thoughts remained on Ketsu. No wonder he didn’t want to accompany me. I wondered how long ago that could’ve been, and how he even made it to Wist Castle.

            The Warden, still amused, replied to my thoughts. “Eighteen years, three months, four days since your historian was made to watch his mother’s death. And when he was made a eunuch, he almost died from blood loss. He was so sickly, the temple had him copy script from one tome to another. Thankfully, they only chopped off his wrinkle sacs and not his head, because he’s rather bright. It wasn’t long after that when Garrain took him in.”

            When Ketsu finally emerged from his hiding place behind the tree, he was dappled in cold sweat. He used the long sleeves of his robes to clean everything away. Then he took a deep breath, fixed his glasses, and walked to my side.

            I remembered…

            When Ketsu had practically begged me to allow him to keep his position as historian and advisor. He hadn’t wanted to go anywhere else, because he didn’t have anywhere else to return to. This was his home, no matter who ruled it—who he was stuck with.

            “You look like you nearly died of fright,” Ryota muttered as he eyed Ketsu from head to toe.

            Ketsu glared at the other man. “I’m just not comfortable out here in the wilderness.”

            That was an understatement.

            “Nothing will happen to you,” I stated as firmly as possible. “Besides—you do have my magic, just in case something happens. You shouldn’t be afraid to use it.”

            “Ah. Yes. Well, thank you, Rimon-nox. I’ll try to keep my composure.”

            A swell of twisted essence caught my attention. I sucked in air and turned my head in the direction of the disturbance. Something was here. Something was coming for us. It was familiar, and much more powerful than before.

            The darkness between the trees prevented me from seeing far. Only the streams of moonlight illuminated patches of the ground, and parts of the trunks.

            “Is something wrong?” Mazun whispered.

            “It’s the hunter demon,” I managed to reply.

            The Warden chuckled. “Oh, yes. Vinaru the hunter has come for you again, Rimon-ves. And this time, he’s wearing his demon form.”