Nero Walker, Book 4 Ch.80 (311)

Quincy sat confidently, radiating authority like a true leader in front of his comrades, doing his best to exude a sense of strength and competence. While they weren’t exactly panicking yet, it was clear that events over the past few hours were beginning to overwhelm them. Not that he could blame them. He himself was feeling uncentered by the recent news they’d been hearing.

“None of this changes anything! The Walker was already planning to leave the city! Altering our plans now would be pointless,” hissed Idrius, her eyes glaring across the table in challenge.

Yarbarrow replying in an equally scathing tone, hissed right back, “Are you mad! They’re marching in the streets! The nobles will have no choice but to act, not to mention the capital. I wouldn’t be surprised if they already have a squad of Populators on the way to their asta-teleporter. We need to get him out of the city before it’s too late!”

Idrius, trying to maintain her air of superiority, replied, “As usual, you’re overreacting. Granted, having the populous demanding the local council of leadership and the faiths to recognize Lord Walker’s ascension is not ideal, but it’s also not something that can’t be dealt with if we keep calm and focus on guiding the situation to our advantage.”

Quincy, looking across the table at Vaxas, noted that the man still seemed lost in thought. Likely he was still going over what he recovered from his trip to the local archives, comparing what he’d found there with what he remembered from his time in the Royal Academy. While Dorchester’s archives wouldn’t be that complete, they would at least have enough information to jog his memory.

Setting aside Vaxas’ scholarly perspective for the moment, Quincy chose to pause the argument between Idrius and Yarbarrow by holding up his hand and declaring, “Before we decide on anything, I would prefer for us to wait for Mortem to return. Although we’ve already received his preliminary report, I’d still like to hear what he has to say.”

As if just mentioning his name was enough to summon him, Mortem pushed open the doors to the basement they were using for their impromptu meeting. Pausing at the threshold, his eyes darted around quickly, noting that everyone was present before he hurried over to the table. Without offering a greeting, he took his seat alongside them as he began speaking.

“Nothing. I found nothing. This ‘movement’ to support a faith in the service of Lord Walker seems to be genuine. I checked the Thought Hub logs personally, touched base with many of our contacts in the faith district, and even questioned the faith scholar who started all this. As far as I can tell, there is no plot or scheme behind any of it. Or at least not one I can find any evidence of,” he stated firmly.

Yarbarrow replied angrily, “How is that possible? Clearly, someone is pushing this as their agenda. It’s grown too quickly and too widely for it to have just sprung up out of nowhere on its own.”

Quincy, already having suspected that this wasn’t the result of some conspiracy they’d missed, noted, “It’s not inconceivable. We can all agree that the Walker has accomplished more than his fair share of great and legendary feats. And with how active House Walker’s Thought Hub is, the entire city surely knows about them, with even the excuse of him being a unique not enough to dim his growing reputation.”

Still not convinced, Yarbarrow replied, “But reverence and worship are two entirely different things. The adventure society we’ve been building is proof enough that people are willing to follow him. Yet I can’t see people coming to believe he’s a god without someone manipulating them into it.”

Speaking up, Idrius added reluctantly, “She’s not wrong. In less than four hours, half the city seems to have heard the theory that Lord Walker may be more than a mortal. Whether it’s the scholars leaning toward him being a planar lord or the faithful believing he is a god bound to the material plane, the generalized belief of his exceptional status is becoming ubiquitous. That kind of social coverage is unlikely to just happen.”

Vaxas, who’d up until now had been quiet, spoke up, “The real issue is that we’ve already inadvertently laid the groundwork for something like this to happen ourselves..”

Quincy, not following, replied, “Oh? How do you mean?”

Everyone in the room looked over at him in confusion. While each of them was worried about the situation in their own unique way, none of them believed they could possibly be the ones at fault.

Speaking slowly, Vaxas stated clearly, “We’ve always believed he would one day ascend to godhood. It’s one of the reasons we’re here after all. None of you can deny that from the beginning, we’ve practically considered it an inevitability. And when looked at through a lens of faith, The Book of Adventure we’ve been spreading could easily be considered his bible. All it took was a spark, and the following we’ve built for him was co-opted by the idea that he’s already achieved divinity, pseudo or not. Honestly, whether he’s simply a planar lord or something more, people who’ve been idolizing him would find comfort in believing that he is more than just a man to have accomplished all that he has. Otherwise, how could they hope to emulate him without feeling inferior?”

Vaxas’ words filled the room like a weight, pressing down on each of them with how obvious his point was. Even Quincy’s iron resolve buckled under the implied responsibility for their part in this madness.

Almost in a whisper, Idrius asked the room, “So, what do we do now?”

—--

While Angelton and Cathleen were directing the returning Wackos, sending them off to wherever it was they went when they weren’t being actively called to duty, the rest of the household staff was staring at him like he was being kind enough to grace them with his presence. Without any other choice, Nero could only grit his teeth and suffer through their silent adoration while making his way across the courtyard. As he headed toward the front door, he did his best to ignore how many people had opted to stop what they were doing, all so they could watch him pass without being distracted by their mundane reality.

‘I thought my rep before I left was overhyped, but this is just getting ridiculous,’ he thought to himself with a grimace.

Right next to the entrance, he saw the tricky trio who ran the estate standing there patiently waiting to receive him. Locking eyes with the man in front, Mr. Cochran, his butler, Nero offered the man a half-hearted wave while sauntering up to the group. “Hey there, Jeeves, always good to see you.”

Frowning at his lord’s choice of address, Mr. Cochran replied, “We’re all heartened to see you returned safely to us as well, my lord.”

Next to him, Mrs. Warren, the estate manager, took a step forward before speaking up, “Lord Walker, would you like to hear the estate’s status report now, or would you prefer to wait until after your shower and repaste?”

Nero nearly tripped over his own feet in shock, pausing a few feet from them. “How did you know I wanted a shower?” he asked in genuine confusion.

Ms. Davis, who Nero thought he remembered being the head maid, replied, “My lord, obviously you’d be wanting a fresh change of clothes and some real food. You’ve been in the field, and cleaning spells and rations are notoriously insufficient for one of your station.”

Nero supposed that made sense, although their guessing what he was planning on doing reminded him of how suspicious he’d become concerning their unparalleled job skills. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought they had some kind of mind-reading ability what with how accurately they predicted his wants and needs.

Shaking his head in defeat, Nero decided he currently didn’t care enough about how they knew what they knew to worry about it, and instead decided to just walk past them toward the door, saying, “Whatever… You can brief me on what you want me to know while we walk. But try to keep it simple, you know I’m not one for details.”

Filing in around him, Mr. Cochran took up his place behind him, while Mrs. Warren and Ms. Davis took the opportunity to flank him. Holding back a snort at how important he suddenly felt surrounded by his ‘crew’, Nero made his way through the front doors into his estate, once again marveling at how opulent the home he’d somehow lucked into truly was.

The shining marble floors and wooden accents glowed as if they’d been polished by hand. Even the lighting seemed to have been purposefully planned to accentuate the first impression visitors would have when they arrived. All things being equal, he couldn’t recall ever having seen an entryway so spectacular in all his life… either of his lives, for that matter.

Yet, almost as if they’d purposefully intended to ruin the moment, several servants chose to pause what they were doing and bow to him in what he could only assume was a practiced greeting. And while their coordination was impressive, the entire display made Nero’s skin crawl. So, in response, Nero immediately rushed away toward his room, referencing his link on how to get there as quickly as possible. Not that his haste in any way impeded his entourage from doing their duty by following along right beside him.

“Very good, my lord,” Mrs. Warren replied happily while beginning her report. “First off, you’ll be glad to hear that the staff has finally reached full capacity, with Lady Verena personally approving all the recent hires. Also, construction has been completed for the bunkhouses, and your Wackos’ accommodations are ready to be distributed. Although in order to finish the training grounds, the construction crews will unfortunately still need another week at the minimum.”

Shrugging, Nero didn’t much have an opinion on anything she’d just said, so he instead chose to say nothing.

Seeing as he wasn’t particularly interested in those topics, she moved on, “Next, your personal guard has been chosen, and the estate’s guardhouse is now fully manned. Defenses have been updated to the standards Battle Leader Averett requested, and essence crystal procurement contracts have been signed to ensure they stay that way. The wards are at full strength, and supplies for an extended siege have been put into stasis just in case. If I might be so blunt, not since the founding of Dorchester has the estate been so well protected.”

Even though he was interested in whatever they were using to accomplish said ‘stasis’, and really interested in how the wards actually worked, he couldn’t help but notice how proud she sounded. So instead of questioning her, he replied as warmly as he could, “Well done!”

Unfortunately, the moment he opened his mouth, he could tell that his false enthusiasm was easily seen through by the crafty old woman. Hearing her sniff regally in the air like she’d just been insulted by a plebeian who didn’t know better, Nero couldn’t help but wince. Luckily, like the professional she was, she quickly chose to change the subject.

“You should also be aware that with your business managers finally hired, their oaths having been received and registered with the Tower of Law, all of them, along with their immediate families, have taken up residence in their assigned wing. Daily or weekly briefings are available whenever you want them, just be sure to let them know what your preferences are,” she said before adding, “Currently, the most important subject you have to deal with is the chapel.”

Confused, Nero slowed his walk through the halls, asking, “The chapel? There’s a chapel here?… I mean, I have a chapel? A chapel to what? Or, I guess, who?”

To his left, Ms. Davis spoke up, providing him with what she believed was much-needed background information. “If you recall, this estate used to belong to the former House Dorchen. Yet, it was originally built by House Osley. The Dorchens acquired it through a Noble War after removing the Osleys from Dorchester’s nobility by force. Before that, the chapel in question was built by Lord Eric Osley due to his fervent faith in…” she paused as if she couldn’t quite remember who exactly the lord had chosen to follow.

Behind him, Nero heard Mr. Cochran say quietly, “Rayleth, my lord. The former lord built the chapel, dedicating it to Rayleth. One of the Dorchen descendants at some point converted it to the faith of Serene.”

Nodding happily, Ms. Davis continued, “Right. Anyway, the chapel hasn’t been in use for years. The recent Dorchens never were much for following the faiths. But the iconography and rituals are all still prepared for worship of the goddess Serene.”

Sounding somewhat annoyed at what she obviously believed was a pointless interruption, Mrs. Warren said, “Be that as it may, my lord, the question is whether or not you wish to put the chapel back into service.”

Nero, not understanding what could possibly make her think he would choose to have a full-size chapel in his home dedicated to anyone, he replied, “Um… no, thank you. I don’t follow any particular faith at the moment.”

Suddenly feeling the ether tense around him, Nero looked over Mrs. Warren in confusion.

Coughing lightly into her hand, she replied, “Forgive me, my lord. But what I meant was, did you want to convert the chapel into a center of faith dedicated to yourself? For the household staff and your followers, that is.”

Utterly flabbergasted, Nero replied, “Huh?”

Ever the helpful explainer, Ms. Davis chimed in, “We’ve all seen what’s been going on throughout the Thought Hub. Congratulations on your ascension, by the way. What Mrs. Warren is asking is whether or not you're going to be needing the chapel converted in a specific manner. We here in Dorchester aren’t all that familiar with cults, so if you being a ‘planar lord’ or whatever requires certain considerations for your followers, she needs to know. However, if you’re in fact a newborn god, then everything will be much easier. The standardized rituals already in place just need to be modified.”

Nodding along, Mrs. Warren seemed to ease some tension out of her shoulders at having her question now out in the open.

Nero on the other hand was utterly baffled. Sure, he’d already been briefed on how widespread the misunderstanding was getting with the idiots in the city, but he hadn’t thought to consider that his own household would have been infected with this sort of stupidity.

But, listening to what she just said, it was clear that very few people in Dorchester, his staff included, actually understood the mechanics of divinity, not to mention the difference between a planar lord and a god. Not that he understood either of those things all that well, either. But from what he did know, he was in fact neither of those things… probably.

Not knowing how to handle the pressure of their combined interest, Nero replied awkwardly, “Ah… I’ll have to get back to you on that. For the time being, let’s just put a pin in that, shall we?”

Feeling them all processing what he just said (translation magic ftw), Nero added, “Now, I’ll just be taking some time to myself in my room… or my chambers if it's all the same to you. No need to worry about any of that faith stuff until we hear back from the professionals. Let’s just focus on the here and now for the time being. I’ll be taking a shower and then having some food, so no need to fuss over me. You all can just go about your business. But, if you need anything, I’m sure either Cathleen or Harry… I mean, Knight Angelton will be more than happy to help you with whatever issue you’re having.”

Without waiting for a reply, Nero quickstepped while walking backward, waving at them to stay where they were so he could move on without them.

After achieving some distance, he turned away from them like he was fleeing from an overweight clown at carnival, rushing down the hall while stifling a full-body shiver at the thought of building an actual temple to himself in his living room.

“I really need to talk to Jennings… like right now,” he muttered to himself.

That said, by the time he got to his chambers, he’d already decided that he’d rather just take a shower and hide from his problems like an adult. His talk with Jennings could wait.

Making sure to lock his door, Nero took the extra precaution of sliding one of the couches up against it to ensure that no one would bother him. The last thing he needed was another experience suffering through a meal while having them stand around watching him eat.

Sighing in relief at the feeling of finally being alone, he slowly made his way across his large living area toward his bathroom, shedding his clothes, armor, and accessories as he went. Trudging through the door, he nearly collapsed in happiness at seeing all the amenities he’d been missing.

Like he was walking into a commercial, the smell of flower-scented soaps and moisturizing oils filled the room with a sense of comfort that Nero could feel all the way into the ether. Everything about the room just radiated comfort. And whether or not it was due to how much he’d been missing a shower, or something more magical, he could already feel himself relaxing.

Although he did need to take a moment to drop off the proverbial kids at the pool. Nevertheless, his eyes never left the shower area that had been patiently waiting for him to come home.

When he did finally make it into the rain shower, he walked right into the middle before pulling out his favorite stump. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d come to believe that despite it being nothing more than a discarded piece of dead tree he’d picked up in the wilds, he was beginning to think it might be the most comfortable chair that he’d ever owned.

Naked as the day he was born, he sank into the stump and closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of the hot water filling the shower with steam. The feeling was so glorious, he raised his hands to the air and tilted his head back while opening his mouth like he was receiving a blessing from the sky. For just a moment, he felt like he was in the Bahamas or Hawaii, enjoying a warm vacation rain while staying at an ocean-side resort.

Possibly as a reflex, he opened his identity, hoping to check in on his progress and recalibrate his sense of self.

‘This is probably this world’s equivalent of ‘centering’ oneself,’ he thought to himself before darkly adding, ‘I wonder if therapy here can be done by correspondence with a multiple-choice selection form…’

Name Nero Walker

Level 27

Race Human

Growth 38%

Tier 1

Condition 100%

Age 14

Center 100%

Body 4

Mind 5

Soul 3

Confluence 20

Stars 0

Pillars 4/ 1

Body 4

Base/Operative/Level Stress

Presence 22/39.6/6.1

Durability 26/46.8/0

Recovery 47/84.6/0.7

Speed 25/45/1

Adaptability 47/84.6/0

Power 24/43.2/0

Mind 5

Base/Operative/Level Stress

Weight 32/64/11.3

Control 39/78/8.1

Field 36/72/9.3

Precision 55/110/2.1

Endurance 65/130/3.3

Focus 61/122/1.8

Soul 3

Base/Operative/Level Stress

Size 29/46.4/50

Density 101/161.6/50

Intensity 76/121.6/50

Pressure 27/43.2/50

Harmony 24/38.4/6.9

Adaptability 270/432/50

As the tension bled from his shoulders, his mind took stock of the numbers that represented how the world saw him.

Aside from his poor showing for his body, everything looked about what he expected it to. Especially his soul, which he can practically now confirm was basically as stressed as it could be, and more than ready for a star infusion.

‘Next level, I really need to deal with that,’ he reminded himself while also lamenting his inability to understand how ‘soul harmony’ worked.

While he could take this opportunity to sink into his soul space and incorporate some experience, possibly even gaining another level, he instead decided to temporarily forget about his growth and just enjoy his shower.

Although he couldn’t deny that the grind was eternal, so was his preference for procrastination.

*Chapter 311 - Peace at last.

*Spoiler - There is nothing better than coming home after being away for a while.  But, as you get older there are so many things that can ruin that wonderful feeling.  Namely people bitching at you about what you missed, what you still have to do, and whatever other nonsense they feel is more important than a good dump and a shower.  In all my life, the best living experience I ever had was with a roommate that went out of his way to ignore me.  He even once handed me a note concerning what he needed to talk to me about rather than just say it to my face.  Like Ron Swanson said, "He's one of my best friends.  To this day, we still don't keep in touch."