Return of the Runebound Professor

Chapter 900: A special kind of irony

Kyyle blinked.

His gaze lingered on the spot where Spider had stood moments before. Someone had shoved him into a portal. They’d been small, but that was all he’d managed to catch. Their back had been to him, and with his senses suppressed, it would have been impossible to see more without straight up breaking Vivian’s rules.

And now they were both gone. No trace of Spider, his mystery rescuer, nor the portal that they’d vanished through, remained.

Not that it seems others have much issue with that. Spider tried to kill someone in the middle of the Prophet’s banquet.

Laughter nearly bubbled up from within him. He wasn’t sure if it took sheer arrogance, stupidity, or confidence to spit in Vivian’s face like this. But he didn’t care. This was the best entertainment he could have asked for. If he’d known that mages like this would have been attending this tournament, it would have been far easier to convince him to come.

Spider, huh? I’ll keep an eye out for what he accomplishes. It’s rare I find someone actually worthy of my time. He definitely wasn’t a Rank 7. But even if he’s a Rank 6… he’ll make it far. I can feel it. There aren’t many people better at picking potential out of a crowd.

That’s the kind of man that I’d want on my side. The other Apostles would probably see him as too brash or foolish. But I can see the truth.

He’s got the hunger. Just like me.

Kyyle started to turn. No matter how much amusement Spider had just provided him with, they really didn’t want to get caught up in too much of a hassle. It would have been annoying if he got questioned. The other Apostles had already dispersed into the crowd.

He was just about to slip away as well when an iron-gripped hand drove down on his shoulder. A wave of energy drove into his domain with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs. Kyyle staggered, his eyes bulging. He spun around — and then he froze.

Vivian.

There was no need to see her face. He could feel the intensity of the power in her domain binding around his neck like a noose. Nobody other than one of the Prophets held magic both this strong and this versatile. Even he couldn’t hope to shape his soul to such a degree.

Damnation. She got here much faster than expected. Doesn’t she have anything better to do? Why is she responding instead of her people?

“Vivian,” Kyyle said smoothly. He kept his tone measured. Vivian was strong. He didn’t like her, but he respected the power she wielded. She was one of the few actually competent mages within the Coral Empire. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What did you do, Apostle?” Vivian spat the last word out like it was an insect that flown into her mouth. “Do you think you can make a mockery of me?”

“Nothing,” Kyyle replied. His eyes flicked down to her robes. He could’t help but notice that someone had clearly spilled something on her. He decided it was best not to point that out. “I am simply here for the tournament, Vivian. I would not be so stupid as to challenge you here, at the seat of your power. What would I possibly gain out of such a stupid choice?”

“I don’t know,” Vivian replied through what were clearly clenched teeth. “You tell me.”

“Nothing,” Kyyle said once more. He shrugged, ignoring the hand still clamped into his shoulder. “I’m afraid I genuinely had nothing to do with what just happened.”

“And the other Apostles?” Vivian asked.

“Nothing as well. Believe it or not, we don’t have any interest in ruining your tournament,” Kyyle said. “We have better things to do with our time. We are genuinely just participating. No different than anyone else, yes?”

Vivian let out a muted snort. Despite her anger, her tone was restrained. She was trying to avoid calling much attention. Kyyle was the only person she’d allowed to feel the intensity of her domain. That was definitely wise. Releasing her magic in the middle of the banquet wasn’t going to put on too great of a look for the rest of the Faction Heads present.

Still, why is she here herself, and so quickly? Shouldn’t she be hunting for good candidates to recruit? Wasting her time with distractions is a great way to let the other Factions eclipse hers. Then again… I wouldn’t complain if that happened.

“What happened?” Vivian asked. “If you had nothing to do with it, then you should have no problem answering me, Disciple of War.”

She was right.

In theory, at least.

But Kyyle quite liked Spider. There was something about the insolent man. Perhaps it had been how quickly he’d decided that his best option was literally murdering the man annoying him in the middle of a banquet hall. That had probably been it. Whatever it may have been, Kyyle respected that bloodlust.

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It would have been a shame for such a promising individual to get torn to shreds before he could come into fruition.

“I’m not so sure I have any desire to respond,” Kyyle said. “What do I get out of it?”

“Your life,” Vivian replied in a hiss.

“That is not yours to grant,” Kyyle said. His lips curled behind his mask. “Or would you kill me right in the middle of the—”

The rest of his sentence ended in a strangled choke. His eyes widened as he found Vivian’s domain encircling his throat and constricting like a snake.

“Yes,” Vivian whispered, leaning closer to him. “I would. And nobody would shed a tear. Not even your Prophet, Disciple of War. You should know that better than most. It is the aspect you represent. Sometimes, innocents die in war. I believe you would call them statistics. Collateral damage. An unfortunate turn of events that couldn’t be helped. Wrong place, wrong time. Must I go on? I will kill you, here and now. And I will do it gladly. Do you know what your death would cause me, Kyyle?”

Kyyle’s teeth clenched. His throat constricted further. He couldn’t even reach for his runes. Vivian’s magic was eroding his domain away completely. He’d forgotten just how damn powerful the woman was. Kyyle couldn’t even open his mouth wide enough to answer her question.

“Paperwork,” Vivian hissed into his ear. “You would be about one sheet of paperwork and an apology to your dog of a master. He would have you replaced by the time the sun set. That’s what happens to expendable soldiers. Now answer my questions, or I’ll tear your head off and shove it up your ass.”

The air returned to Kyyle’s lungs in a rush as she released him form her domain. He drew in a sharp breath. And, despite himself, a flicker of amusement coiled through Kyyle. He couldn’t help it. His desires were quite lateral. War was war. Hatred was hatred. Even when it was pointed at him.

“That wasn’t bad,” Kyyle said, rubbing at his neck. “What changed? You haven’t always been this cold. If you’d been like this from the start, the Prophet never would have antagonized you.”

“People change,” Vivian replied. “Answer the question. Last chance.”

“I’ll answer honestly. You’ve more than earned that. But the answer isn’t going to be what you want to hear. It was a person I’ve never met. Someone showed up and started antagonizing him.”

“And?” Vivian asked tersely. “How does that result in a significant amount of magical energy being called in my banquet?”

“The bloke didn’t much like getting antagonized, so he shoved a mouthful of lava down the other guy’s throat. Then the guy teleported out of here using some dark red magic. Chaos, if you’d believe it.”

Vivian stared at Kyyle for a long second.

“The Chaos-magic user survived?”

“Almost certainly, but he’s going to have a nasty day on the toilet tomorrow,” Kyyle said through a smirk. “But the look on the guy’s face was too good. He shouldn’t have taken his mask off.”

“What they look like?” Vivian asked. “Both of them.”

“The Chaos magic user was a demon. Square jaw, punchable face.”

“You’d recognize one of those,” Vivian said.

“Now that’s just uncalled for,” Kyyle said. “You’re not taking a very impartial stance here, Vivian.”

“I never claimed to be,” Vivian replied. “The other one. The attacker. Describe him.”

Kyyle hesitated for a moment. Then he suppressed a sigh. He quite liked Spider… but not nearly enough to sacrifice himself for the man. Vivian meant business. Anyone standing in her way was liable to get torn into meat confetti and flung from the bannisters.

Seriously, she barely interacted with the kingdom just a few short years ago. What changed? Either way… I won’t lie. But that doesn’t mean I have to say everything.

“Black cloak and mask. Silver lines running through it. Kind of like webs,” Kyyle said. “That was it. I didn’t bother remembering his name.”

Vivian’s gaze bore into his with such intensity that Kyyle found the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

“What?” He asked. “I answered your question.”

“Nothing,” Vivian said. “Leave. We’re done here.”

Wait. Seriously?

He hadn’t expected to get away nearly that easy, but he wasn’t going to complain. Putting distance between himself and Vivian was definitely the smart move — and the others needed to know. Vivian being this on edge had not been accounted for in the plan.

We might have to change a few things up.

***

Vivian finally had her target. She’d been convinced that her chance had sailed, and that the Beyond-user was long since gone. But it looked like they’d pushed their luck just one step too far.

She finally had them.

Her hands clenched into fists. For the sake of her Kingdom — and for her own fury — she was going to tear the bastard into shreds. Flaunting his power like this, right under her nose… they’d signed their own death sentence.

And to think it was Kyyle, of all people, who revealed the truth to me.

Vivian let out a sharp breath. Not all of her questions had been answered. There was more than Chaos magic lingering in the air, here.

There was Death as well.

And it wasn’t the kind of Death magic that some rogue mage might have picked up in their free time. This was ancient. Powerful enough that the number of mages in all of Obsidia with the ability to use it could be counted on one hand.

The only thing she did know was that the magic hadn’t come from the black cloth-cloaked man. Death magic left a certain stench, even more so than other magics. That meant there was yet another person involved in this entire shitshow. One that didn’t seem to be on the Truthseeker’s side… but that did not mean they were on hers.

Her lips thinned. Then, with the crowd milling all around her, largely unaware of what had just happened, she slipped away.

For the time being, she had her target.

Chaos magic. I should have fucking known.

Orlen and his Truthseekers. How in all the hells did they get access to the Beyond? But I should have known they’d be involved with this. Nobody else would be stupid enough to flaunt their power before me so freely.

But Orlen is so high on his own fumes that he probably didn’t think I’d ever catch him. It’s too bad his subordinate slipped up.

Vivian couldn’t help but laugh. It looked like her conversation partner for the night really did have quite the knack for getting himself into interesting situations… but also quite the eye for dealing with them. Whatever Orlen’s goon had been planning, he’d caught on immediately and jumped right to frying him.

That was probably what forced him to call on the Beyond and run away.

Either way, it looked like Vivian owed the strange man. It would be wise to keep an eye on him. She hadn’t expected any of the mages in the tournament to actually catch her interest… but she’d been proven wrong.

After after I dice Orlen’s Truthseeker into pieces, and if that man gets far enough in the tournament… perhaps I should get that man something as a token of thanks.

I wonder if he’d like a fruit basket.