WW Chapter 88: What Happens When You Win a Fight (Patreon)

Ezra considered it a demonstration of how far he’d come that he didn’t immediately start making demands to Basil about what he meant by “We’ve got the fuckers”. After all, he’d just gotten an assignment to go on a trip to another Duchy, select a squad to accompany him, and be a representative of Brayton. Instead, he beat the ever-loving shit out of three people. 

Wait, four. 

Honestly, he’d kind of forgotten that Anders was there too. Anyways, he’d, by his own count, probably broken a rib or two of Anders, used his aura to cut into Willem, broken Louis’s elbow and possibly knee, and knocked Matthias unconscious.

“Nobody worry,” Basil said, raising his voice. “Ezra here was justified, I heard the entire conversation. They were trying to pull knives on him, he was just defending himself. I mean, you all saw, if you wanted to, he’d’ve done a lot worse.”

Fortunately, that seemed to have been enough for people to stop caring quite so much. Though Ezra was somewhat of an unknown if considering the garrison as a whole, Basil was known to everybody. Just like among the trainees, Basil got along with everybody. They knew who he was, they knew his position, and he took care of his own.

Right about that same moment was when the squad of commoner trainees made their way in. Seeing Ezra surrounded by four people on the ground, a Pseudo-Knight, and a whole lot of confusion, they quickly began moving. Ezra found himself smiling widely as Telemachus reacted first. Jumping over a table, he entered the same aisle that Ezra was in and jogged next to him while the rest of the squad followed suit, though not as aggressively.

“Whatever happened, he’s good,” the Adept said. “You know these people, they’re constantly starting shit. I mean, constantly, um… is the word instigating?”

“I know you’re not a noble, Telemachus, don’t try to talk like one,” Basil shook his head. “And, I was here, I know that Ezra didn’t do anything wrong. That said, he’ll probably need to come with me to speak with the general, if nothing else. Anything that needs the requisitioning of a healer requires the general’s sign-off, and he’ll want to know why four of his supposedly most promising recruits ended up bleeding and unconscious on the floor of the mess hall.”

Again, further to Telemachus’s credit, he looked at Ezra to confirm what was happening. Despite himself, Ezra chuckled, just a little bit, leaned over to put an arm around his friend’s shoulder, and spoke softly in his ear.

“I’m totally fine. They started it. I’ll be seeing you later today, I can tell you more.”

Finally, Ezra’s friend smiled and nodded, saluting Basil before he stepped away. “Do you need me for anything?”

“No, I don’t need you to carry or help any of them along,” Basil shooed the younger man away. “I know why you’re asking, I get it, now leave off.”

Telemachus simply saluted once again and retreated. In his place, Basil called over a handful of other soldiers, veterans that had been around long enough to have less color in their hair than most. Each of them gathered one of the groaning or unconscious trainees and brought them out of the mess hall and towards the infirmary. While they went, Ezra and Basil went a different way, making their path up the stairs until they were in the hallway of the commanders. Ezra had only spent any notable amount of time inside of Chloe’s office, and a thought crossed his mind that made him giggle inappropriately. Fortunately, it was before they were outside of the general’s office, and Basil stopped, cocking an eyebrow at Ezra as he demanded an explanation.

“You’re gonna need to tell me what was so funny.”

With the attention brought to it, Ezra shook his head, laughing a little bit more. He stopped his steps, and Basil did the same. When finally he had collected himself, Ezra shrugged and said, “I just realized that I didn’t get to finish my breakfast is all. Then I was laughing that I was worried about that after everything that just happened. Just inappropriate.”

“Things are always a lot funnier when they shouldn’t be,” Basil agreed, smirking. “Now, I’ll explain things to you after we are done with the general.”

Basil didn’t offer anything else as he knocked three times on the door to the man’s office. After a very short wait, the man answered from inside, “Come in.”

The voice was casual, yet still somehow commanding. Ezra didn’t hesitate to do exactly as was commanded, and followed behind Basil as they strode into the room.

With the name general, Ezra had expected war trophies, a display of weapons, and maybe some sort of taxidermied Dragonkin in the office. Instead, what he saw was, along both walls, shelves of scrolls and papers. None were books, most were loose, though folders weren’t uncommon either. Reports, then? Whatever it was, thousands and tens of thousands of sheets of paper filled both sides of the room, while the center of the room was dominated by a massive table, two meters long and half as wide. On top was what Ezra could only assume was a set of three immensely detailed maps. Perhaps of the Duchy, the Kingdom, and the continent? Then, on the other side of the map table, sat a desk and behind it, the general.

Ever since he’d first seen him, Ezra had thought that General Gray was a relatively unimpressive man. He was a bit rounder around the belly than most soldiers, and his wrinkled, though severe face was nothing special. He had a thick mustache and looked more bookish than intimidating. That held true now, his silver-threaded hair slicked back as he finished writing something. The scratching of his quill’s nib went silent as he set it to the side, withdrew a small pinch of sand from its place on the side of the desk, and sprinkled it over the letter. As the letter dried, he set it to the side, laced his fingers, and looked at the two men who entered.

“Captain Basil, good to see you. What brings you and our friend Ezra Soldier here to see me today?”

“Ezra was involved in an altercation in the mess hall this morning,” Basil explained. “He was sitting alone when Anders, Willem, Louis, and Matthias approached him.”

“Oh, is that so.” The general kept his voice dispassionate as he heard it, glancing at Ezra. “Going off of the state of Ezra’s dress and face, I would imagine that he could not be considered to have come out on the worse side of this altercation.”

“A correct assumption, sir,” Basil nodded. “The story is that Ezra was being threatened at knifepoint when the fight broke out. He reacted appropriately, and without relying on comparable force.”

“So none of the other party have been killed?” The general confirmed, reaching his left hand out to grab a blank sheet of paper as his right grabbed his quill once again. The scratching of the nib filled the air as Basil confirmed the answer.

“Minor injuries have been sustained, nothing that can’t be taken care of with a first, at most second circle spell.”

“Second circle? Which injuries might require that level of care?”

“Matthias was knocked unconscious with a single punch, so I don’t know if his brain might need attention, while Louis’s elbow and knee might be broken. Those are more complicated, so they may need a higher order of power to be treated. Finally, Willem’s arm was cut with aura, though I suspect it was not a serious wound.”

“It seems like our friend Ezra is quite the proficient fighter,” the general said, continuing to write and glancing up at Ezra. Even though his tone hadn’t shifted at all, there seemed to be something disapproving in the general. Fortunately, Ezra’d learned to trust in his superiors, and stayed silent as Basil did as well. For a handful of seconds, silence reigned in the room until the general’s quill stopped moving, and he looked at Ezra and then Basil.

“I know you favor the boy,” the general said bluntly, his words sending a shudder of fear down Ezra’s neck. He had been in a position like this before, and it had been considered a light sentence for him to spend a week in a freezing dungeon. He wanted to argue, but by now, he’s been trained to shut up and listen when his superiors were talking, and he was going to follow that training, in the hopes it could get him some sort of relief or relaxation in his punishment. With just as implacable of a voice, the general continued speaking.

“However, the fact of the matter is that, by your own admission, he’s done crippling levels of damage to four people, every one of them nobleborn, and in return, he has sustained no damage whatsoever. I find it hard to believe that this was done from him, not being in a position of power. How sure are you that he didn’t start this? Are you positive that they were threatening him with weapons?”

“I was sitting five meters away,” Basil reported, smiling. “As you know, starting today, we are officially buddies until we leave on our trip to Ember.”

“Five meters is a good distance,” the general argued back.

“Yes, however, I was paying attention to my buddy, and it is a matter of written record that my affinity is with wind.”

“And your ears. They’re exceptional?”

“Of course.”

“If that is the case, then there is no potential correction or punishment due for one Ezra Soldier. Instead, I can only commend him for standing to protect himself when others attempted to do him harm. No further discussion necessary. Dismissed.”

The general didn’t say anything more as he gestured for the two men to leave. However, Ezra couldn’t help but notice the faint smile coloring the corner of his lips. Suddenly, despite the injustice of not being allowed to speak and being doubted by the general for no reason, it seemed to bring up more questions than before. With his eyes narrowed, Ezra followed Basil out of the room, where they closed the door.

“Follow me,” Basil said, not allowing any further conversation as he turned and walked towards his own office. 

He didn’t pull a key from his pocket when they got there, though. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment, concentration as a thread of wind slithered under the door and into the room. Ezra stretched his own awareness out, feeling the wind as it seemed to fill something on the other side of the solid wood. He thought he could hear a brief flapping of fabric as there was a quiet thunk. With that sound, the door unlocked, and Basil shouldered it open.

Ezra followed him in, looking to where the wind orb had followed Basil’s commands to push hard on a bonnet. The bonnet was tied to a string that was then tied to a deadbolt, without damaging the door, the only way in was through doing something just like this.

“It’s a real bitch and a half to learn,” Basil said as Ezra stared. “The inner world isn’t really made for delicate work away from the body like this. Probably any sorcerer of the first circle could circumvent this in half the time it takes me to do it, so long as they understand the concept.”

Ezra nodded appreciatively as they stepped into the room and Basil closed the door.

“So you’ll be wanting an explanation,” the Pseudo-Knight said with a smile. “And I’m happy to give it.”

“What did you mean by it when you said we got the fuckers?”

“The reality is that nobody, even the Duke with his extensive patience, can deal with insurrection at a time of war,” Basil explained. “The Duke doesn’t want to take any steps himself against the loudest voices against him, but has given us all free rein to do what we can, if we are instigated, to take care of the problem. We’ve been spreading little rumors about what might be happening, things that would have plenty of people real curious, and enough information to do anything with.”

“Things like how the Duke is sick?” Ezra guessed. “Or maybe that he’s considering taking some steps against the anti-Duke faction?”

“More along the line to the second,” Basil confirmed. “We wanted to get them desperate, to get the information sooner rather than later to protect themselves. Most of them have always thought that the Duke being as permissive as he has been was just an attempt to lull them into a false sense of security. Now that they heard something about how their suspicions were correct, we were sure they would jump on it fast.”

“And Anders thought he could come after me to get that information,” Ezra nodded along. “Right?”

“Probably. Obviously, I haven’t had the opportunity to talk to him. But, now I will. Well, not me. Someone else. I can’t imagine having you around while they’re interrogating him will help. And, being your buddy, I’ll have to stick around you.”

“And why did the General not like me there?” Ezra asked. “I’d guess that he’s on the Duke’s side.”

“He absolutely is,” Basil said. “He’s proud of you. The problem isn’t you, it’s that he might be called to testify about what happened, and can’t show any partiality before that. It’s almost certain that someone’ll try something, though it’ll only really come into play after we’ve left. With the General having asked the firsthand witnesses, he had a good baseline to start off of to make sure that, no matter how much time and money they put into it, the Count can’t do anything about.”

Ezra smiled widely at that, the thought of being able to have been a part in bringing the arrogant bastards down a few steps. Before he could get too lost in thinking about it, though, Basil, steeled himself, stopped smiling quite so much, and nodded.

“That’s about all the time we’ve got, but we can talk more about it tonight, if you really want to. For now, it’s probably time for you to actually get some food. After all, those mean nobles came over and bullied you instead of letting you eat.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then, in unison, they broke into laughter.