MiP B2 Chapter 30: Royal Action

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As the day faded into twilight, Carlos and Amber settled in their shared tent and got out Sandaras's spellbook for another look, now that their structures for perception and analysis were complete. Carlos cocked his head as he examined the lock spell again. "You know, I really have to stand by my initial assessment: that is a monstrous tangle of a spell. So many parts all interacting with each other in a hugely complex pattern."

Amber laughed and shook her head helplessly. "I have to agree, but at least we can sense and distinguish the parts now." She sighed. "At this point, it all comes down to power, doesn't it? That lock is made of extremely dense and powerful essence and mana, upwards of Level 40, I think. So are the royal guard enchantments. We'll have to close some of the distance between that and our own power before we can really make good progress on picking out their details."

Carlos shrugged. "Maybe so, but I'm not content to just wait for that. Relying on having a lot of power makes it a crutch, and there's always someone with more power. We should keep working on deciphering these things, even with our current disadvantage. No matter how slow our progress, it can serve as practice at tackling problems that are above our level."

Amber leaned back on her hands and looked at Carlos. "You are relentlessly optimistic and positive about this stuff. How do you do it?"

Carlos blinked and stared back for a moment. "Me? You're the one who recognized and seized the opportunity of a lifetime, even at the cost of throwing away your whole previous plan for your life, without even hesitating!"

Amber blushed and mumbled something under her breath. She smiled weakly. "Thanks. Goodnight, and I'll practice hard tomorrow." She deployed the tent's divider and settled into her blankets.

Carlos smiled tenderly, sighed, and followed suit.

___

Two days later and far away in Kalor City, Prince Patrimmon Kalor, second child of King Elston, struggled to hide his boredom. He sat on a resplendent throne, his muscular body decked out in full formal attire – all orichalcum dark orange, of course – and surveyed the lesser nobles who filled most of the audience chamber. Ugh. Why do I have to bother with these petty affairs? Just let the nobles fight things out among themselves. He restrained a sigh once again and nodded to the herald at the doors to let in the next petitioner.

"Announcing, High Lady Balon Briston, to petition the Crown for redress of grievances."

"The rest of them are here with me." Lady Balon's voice was coldly flat, biting off her words with barely restrained anger.

The herald hesitated only momentarily. "Lady Balon, there are dozens of nobles here waiting. You will have to name them specifically."

Lady Balon's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Very well, if you insist. Accompanying me in common cause for the same grievance are High Lord Uncher Kettet, High Lady Efam Stomren, High Lord Honwa Chold, Lord Torlar Vonmil, Lord Plara Facton…"

Prince Patrimmon stopped listening as the list just kept going, and going, with more and more nobles filing in with their token guards to form a grim-faced crowd. I don't care which nobles they are, but how many of them joined together is unusual. This might actually be interesting.

When she finally stopped listing names, the herald looked out the door and blinked. "My apology, Lady Balon, I did not realize you meant your words literally that all of the other nobles waiting were with you. This is extraordinary."

Another noble, Patrimmon didn't catch who, chided the herald from the crowd. "Get on with it. We're here on business."

The herald gave a quick bow and hurried on to the next formality. "You may approach and speak your grievance. Prince Patrimmon will hear your petition on behalf of the Crown."

Lady Balon strode forward, the other gathered nobles all marching in a tightly-packed crowd behind her. "This grievance is a matter for the Crown itself. I would speak with King Elston."

Prince Patrimmon leveled a displeased glare at her, but she remained uncowed. "That is for me to decide, not you. Who has offended so many of you, and how? Speak."

Lady Balon raised her eyes to meet his, returning his glare with defiance. "The Crown has denied us the ability to swiftly raise our scions to the levels needed to make use of our wellsprings. We demand that the restrictions against sending noble scions into the Wilds be lifted."

The prince stared at her unblinking, remaining silent as he took in what she'd just said. Is she serious? A demand delivered to the Crown? Wait, she mentioned the Wilds. Is this… He shook his head. "Is this about the matter of the illegal and treasonous 'rotation agreement' I've been hearing about recently?" He raised a hand to forestall her response. "No, don't bother. This court is for grievances against other nobles, not against the Crown. The Crown's rule is absolute and cannot be challenged. Unless you wish for your house to be destroyed, accept your place and abandon this foolishness at once."

Lady Balon's lips thinned for a moment before she spoke again, still defiant. "If that is the Crown's answer, then so be it, but you are not the Crown. A decision of such import properly belongs only to your father, King Elston Kalor himself."

Prince Patrimmon lifted off from his throne, moving by the power of his will alone, then straightened to loom threateningly over the crowd. "Are you questioning the Crown's decision in delegating the authority for this court to me? Consider carefully. You are one wrong word from being arrested."

Lady Balon glared back at him for several tense seconds, then without another word turned and walked away. The other nobles accompanying her stepped aside to clear her path, then turned and followed her out, their marching footsteps the only sound in the entire audience chamber until the door closed behind the last of them.

Outside the chamber, Lady Balon took a deep breath and shook her head. "Well, that could have gone better."

___

Two more days after Lady Balon's ill-fated attempt at working out a compromise with the uncompromising Crown, Carlos and Amber woke up with a new task ahead of them. Carlos took stock mentally before even moving from his position of slumber. All 10 slots are filled with superstructures now. There's the soul-themed one – my own soul, to be specific – then mind, IDE, perception, understanding/analysis, casting spells, controlling spells, empowering spells, and connecting self-buffing spells to myself to be as effective as soul structures. Each and every one of them formed of 13 basic structures, but disguised so external scans see just 4 supers from Tier 10 down to Tier 7 at our current level of 22 and a batch of 6 basics filling the other space.

And then there's the original, which is formed of only 10 structures and is now wholly redundant, all of its components duplicated in one or another of the other superstructures. I'm not sure whether it's better to edit that in place or scrap and rebuild it from scratch, but either way, today it's getting replaced with a royal-tier superstructure themed for countering interference for our spells.

He yawned and stretched. And when that's done, our entire soul plan will at last be complete, just in time for moving day. He chuckled quietly. We'll be all out of excuses to not go practice and get experience with how to fight with our magic. Hmm. We should pick the next campsite with an eye toward having some good hunting grounds nearby, close enough for Purple to extend his domain into them. If we have to leave his domain to practice properly, it will significantly reduce our leveling speed.

Carlos sighed and sat up, casting off his warm blanket. "Alright, time to get up. Let's see how many more keywords of the sabotage enchantment we can decipher this time."

___

Meanwhile, in a far distant city, a young woman dressed in dark orange walked up to the imposing front gate of a sprawling castle. Stone and steel towered above her, looming menacingly and adorned with powerful enchantments, but she ignored the implied threat. After all, she could dismantle the entire castle, enchantments and all, with her bare hands if she wanted to.

She pounded her fist on the gate 3 times, carefully holding back to merely make a loud noise rather than tear the gate from its heavy hinges. The sound of her knocks was still echoing when a viewing slit opened 10 feet up and a voice called out from inside. "State your name and business here."

Suddenly, the young woman was hovering in the air, looking back through the slit at the same level. "Princess Lornera Kalor, here to see High Lord Recindril Tostral on a matter of import to the Crown. Bring him to me at once, or me to him, I don't care which."

The guard hesitated, but an immense pressure suddenly emanated from the princess, and he leaped to obey. The heavy gate slowly swung open, and Lornera deigned to descend to land and actually walk as he beckoned her to follow.

They had only walked a short distance when another voice called out from around a corner. "What's all that racket about? You should know better than to make so much noise, it's annoying!" The speaker of this complaint came into view, and the guard paused and bowed.

"My apology, Lady Jamar, but–"

Lornera interrupted. "'Lady' Jamar? Has something happened to Lord Recindril, his heir Recindren, and both of his other 2 children? My latest information is that Jamar Tostral is not yet fully adult, much less the head of her house."

Jamar's face flushed red, and she put her right hand on the hilt of one of her sheathed swords. "Who are you to dare disrespect me? My father will hear of this!"

Lornera just raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. "I'd think the color of my regalia would be enough of a clue. Don't you?"

Jamar did a double take and gaped. "What? You– The Crown!? But–"

A sudden overwhelming intangible pressure forced Jamar to her knees, and Lornera picked her up by the back of her shirt. "Your father will indeed hear of this, but I think not in the manner you want. And after this insult, I am done with showing your house respect." She glanced aside at the guard who'd been leading her. "You may return to your post. I will find Lord Recindril myself."

Lornera lifted off from the ground, still dangling Jamar from her right hand, and extended her senses outward. There was some minor resistance from wards meant to block spying magic, but she pushed through them with ease and located the castle's lord in moments. Barely a heartbeat later, she had flown through the halls to the chamber in question – a large room well-equipped for exercise and fencing – and opened the door.

High Lord Recindril Tostral, with commendable reflexes, was already facing the door when Lornera opened it. He took in her appearance and cargo with a quick glance and frowned. "Princess, what is the meaning of this? Why are you here, and why have you captured Jamar?"

Princess Lornera casually tossed Jamar on the ground between them. "It appears that you have been neglectful in raising your 4th child, Recindril. Did you know that she has your guards trained to call her by a noble title she does not yet have, for fear of punishment for 'disrespecting' her? And she didn't even bother to observe my plainly obvious regalia before admonishing me for disrespecting her as well."

Recindril gave his daughter a hard look, then shook his head and returned his attention to Lornera. "Be that as it may, you came here for a different reason."

"You hired the Black Blades."

Recindril scoffed. "You're guessing. Even they do not know who hires them, by their own design. And even if true, that is hardly a crime."

"To soul-kill a high noble who is under the direct protection of the Crown."

Recindril froze. "What? Carlos…"

Lornera smiled grimly. "High Lord Carlos Founder, of common background, was given temporary Crown protection in light of his lack of existing resources, as per long-established, if rarely-invoked, Crown policy. Captain Granlan was exceedingly cooperative about helping track you down once he learned he'd been hired to commit treason. And speaking of treason, you can thank neglected Jamar, there, for speaking of the rotation agreement in the direct personal presence of two royal guards."

"But–" Jamar, eyes wide and face blanched almost white, tried to object from the floor, but Recindril interrupted her with a barked command.

"Silence! You have done too much damage already, Jamar." He returned his attention to Lornera. "What do you intend to do? I was not aware of their Crown protection when I gave the order."

"Hmm." Lornera glanced down at Jamar again. "I was considering being lenient, but it seems your negligence is habitual, not an exception. Taking Jamar might be doing you a favor. I'll take Recindren instead."

Jamar sprang to her feet and yelled. "What? We're a high house! You can't just bully–"

Lornera slapped Jamar's head so violently that Jamar flew into the wall behind her and collapsed, blood beginning to pool around her. "Perhaps when she respawns, she will have learned some small part of the lessons you have failed to give her. Now, for Recindren."

Recindril raised the sword he'd been holding the whole time. "Taking my heir is too much. Be reasonable."

Lornera looked at his raised sword for a moment, then shook her head with a wry smile. "You just volunteered to be our example for everyone about the rotation agreement." She moved faster than he could react, and suddenly Recindril's head was flying through the air, separated from his neck by her hand that had become a blade.

Seconds later, Princess Lornera was looking down on the castle from the height of a cloud. As she curled up into a ball and took aim, she reflected to herself. It's always amused me that no one has guessed how the Crown makes craters. It's so simple, but no one even considers the idea of slamming yourself into the ground at high speed as an attack. To be fair, for people less durable than us, it would likely be suicide.

She began to descend, picking up speed rapidly as she became a human cannonball. The tricky part will be calibrating this to leave the wellspring's containment intact. That, and leaving Recindren alive to take hostage from the scattered remains of his former home.

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