Chapter 4: XCVIII — By Permission Alone

  Sneaking through Asoburgh unseen was no great task. Hidden corridors, false walls, and long-forgotten vents lay scattered throughout the palace, paths an orphan child with too much time and too little to occupy his mind had discovered and explored. It was also big. Stupidly, impossibly big—built with lost technologies from the Kingdom Maker’s reign. This was all well and good for reminding visitors who was boss, but made it virtually impossible to know what was going on across the whole thing at once.

  Kayode’s greatest challenge, actually, would be sneaking into the Grand Duke’s Pleasure Room.

  From a dusty shadow, Kayode watched the door stand silently in the hallway. It was, of course, just his luck that tonight of all nights was the one when the old fuck had decided to calm his nerves.

  Luckily for him—and perhaps for everyone involved—he wasn’t left waiting long. The Grand Duke soon emerged, long flowing garbs replaced with a night robe, a sticky coat of sweat on his skin, and five scantily dressed women in tow—each young enough to be his daughter. Adventurous man that he was, their features were gathered from all across Velúndé, while their clothing appeared to cover the exact minimum amount of skin it could without subjecting them to death by hypothermia.

  With the grin on his lips and the giddiness in his tone, he certainly wasn’t playing the part of a grieving brother tonight. “And so I looked The Devil King right in the face and told him—‘If you don’t take off that silly mask, I’ll give you a reason to keep it on.’”

  The women giggled, laughing like people well versed in the art of keeping old men’s egos large and unblemished.

  The Duke leered at one of their backsides with a look not exactly dissimilar from the salivating Goblin Kayode had faced earlier, then slapped it.

  She winced, jumped, then remembered herself after the momentary instinct of pain and let out a carefully flustered squeal. The Duke took no notice of her momentary slip, and by the time they were turning a corner all evidence of it had been covered.

  Kayode looked at the back of Duke Femi’s head.

  Balding fuck. Old. Too bloody old, go and grope someone your own age at least.

  Soon the group disappeared down the corridor, which spared Kayode seeing the creepiness if nothing else.

  He set his eyes back on the door—oak, sturdy. Kayode could probably break it as he was now, and maybe without much effort. But that would invite far too many questions.

  And luckily, he didn’t need to.

  A moment later, Kayode watched an old Native woman make her way through the passage. She wore a spotless uniform and carried a brush and a broom. Maid Mary Rowe had been working in the palace since long before Kayode was born.

  She walked over, reached into her pocket, pulled out a key, and opened the door.

  That was when Kayode stepped out of the shadows, He was smiling wearing the most affable look he could muster, and brimming with warmth. “Aunt Mary!” he beamed.

  She turned and smiled right back at him. “Lord Kayode!” she laughed. “I forgot you were back—you’ve grown so big! What happened to your face?” she asked, concern in her eyes as they settled on the bandage where the Goblin had slashed.

  Kayode grinned. “Ah, don’t worry about it. A minor hunting accident.”

  She nodded, then her features crumpled with guilt. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you what was going on before. We weren’t allowed to speak of King Seyi’s passing.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he reassured her. And then, wielding that guilt like a blade even as he feigned releasing her from it, gestured to the door. “Listen—The Duke forgot one of his tools here and would like me to retrieve them for him so that he might continue his unwinding in his bedroom with them. Can I just head in and grab it? I’ll be quick.”

  The guilt did not vanish, but it was accompanied with a sternness now. “His Grace informed me of no such thing. Perhaps if you could have him send you back with a note?” Annoying. It seemed the Duke trained his staff well.

  “I would rather not interrupt his.. relaxation.” Kayode tried. One good thing about the man’s perversion was that it made falsifying disgust at the thought all too easy.

  The woman shook her head. “Neither would I, but I also cannot allow anyone in without his permission.”

  Shit. He would have to find another way in then—wait.

  Kayode recalled his new skill.

  [Class Skill ? Sovereign’s Presence — I — Active: Your presence carries weight. Those who behold you are more inclined to regard you as worthy of honour and respect. When you speak, others perceive greater wisdom and overlook errors they might otherwise question.]

  ‘Active?’ Not passive. So I have to think about it to activa—

  Kayode felt his heart surge with power, different from his Level Up’s, less like a surging wave and more like a dog at its master’s heel, waiting to be ordered.

  He obliged.

  “Mary,” he began, and saw the woman nearly jump to attention at his words. “I need to go in. And I would rather not bother his Grace.”

  Mary’s eyes widened, and then her cheeks were red with embarrassment, as if catching herself acting horribly untoward. And then she nodded and stepped back. “Of course, my Lord. My apologies.” With her head bowed, she gestured that he enter.

  And Kayode did.

  And instantly wished his Skill had failed.

  Dildos. That was all he saw.

  Every shape. Every size. Neatly arranged on shelves, scattered across nearly every inch of the room. And It was a large room—red carpet, red bed, and a ceiling that was nothing but a mirror. There were… contraptions, too, elaborate devices made to trap the human form and immobilise it for acts he had no wish to imagine a wrinkly old man performing.

  From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of stains streaking the bed and floor.

  And above the bed hung a painting.

  It depicted the Arch Arcanist himself as a young man—not much older than Kayode, with a full head of hair. The man’s painted eyes were heavy with unmasked lust, gazing down at the room as if undressing everyone within it. The painting depicted elements of his anatomy in ways that Kayode had cause to doubt were accurate to reality, if only on the basis of Grand Duke Oluwafemi’s ability to walk.

  Now, Kayode thought distantly, would be an excellent time to die. The knowledge that he had to search this place only doubled his certainty, but then it wasn’t like dying would actually bring him any sort of peace anymore. Not until he’d done it another hundred times.

  He calmed himself with a reminder that wasn’t going to search it all, and not just because doing so would actually cause him to blind himself. It was also just a way to guarantee he would get caught. This was an important book filled with important information, so the person that used it would never keep it somewhere they couldn’t easily access. That immediately ruled out arms’ reach of several…devices.

  Kayode started with a look inside a cupboard, and found nothing. He tried under the man’s bed and found immensely worse than nothing, tried the desks within arm’s reach of it and the only books he stumbled onto were ones depicting naked women with improbable proportions and impossible poses.

  He almost found relief when he saw a book that had actual text within it. But there was no wolf motif. It was an unfinished manuscript for an autobiography of the Duke’s titled ‘King Maker: Weight of the Invisible Crown.’

  You have got to be fucking kidding me.

  Kayode was considering that the book might be hidden behind some magical obscuration. After all, if it was so important, why would it have been kept in a place this accessible? No. Kayode dismissed that idea. The issue with putting all the magical wards around something of value was the tricky little fact that they were magic. So it would essentially be signalling to anyone with a heightened enough Detection Skill that something valuable lay within. That didn’t help Kayode find anything, given he had all the magical sense of a frothing maniac convinced that the ancestors hated the Classed, but anyone Grand Duke Oluwafemi worried about searching his rooms would likely be good at the searching in question. So it would’ve been better to put it somewhere innocuous, where just about everyone could access it but none would feel any specific urge to do so.

  Kayode shoved the book back into the Duke’s desk.

  Where the hell did you keep it, you self obsessed, narcissistic pric—Of course.

  Fuck, he could be thick sometimes.

  Kayode turned around, looked up at the painting, lifted it—feeling somehow tainted by the very act—and found a leather book with the motif of a wolf resting behind.

  Kayode opened it to its fifth page where he was met with a string of random symbols, letters, and numbers.

  He heard footsteps approaching. Drunken, clumsy, slow, and carried far ahead of their source by the echo-prone walls, but still no more than a minute or two off.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Fuck!

  He didn’t bother making sense of it now. Instead, he pulled out a pencil and a piece of paper from his pocket and copied it all down as quickly as he could manage.

  Kayode slid the book behind the painting and he was out a moment later—sunken into the shadows just in time to see the Duke emerge into the hallway, step past Mary, enter the room, and emerge with his autobiography in hand. Must have forgotten it.

  “Do try to get the top of the shelves this time, Mary, I do pay you for a reason, you know,” the Duke said as he walked away. Not bothering to look back at the woman.

  A moment later he disappeared down the hallway.

  Well. That was close.

  ###

  “Wake up.”

  Kayode did, and found an intruder waiting for him in his room.

  They were seated in the chair overlooking his bed, wore an all-black fabric, a hood, a half mask, and had a Skill or Effect of sorts that cloaked their eyes and hair in shadows. On their back was a quilt stocked with arrows, in their hands a bow—both as jet-black as the rest of their attire.

  “Who are you?” Kayode asked, stifling his terror. Both the general terror of waking up with a stranger sitting over him, and the more specific horror of knowing that stranger was very likely the person that killed you one loop ago.

  “A friend of a friend,” they replied, and Kayode could not parse a gender from the tone of their voice. They sounded like they were speaking through a bubble. He tried to get a hint from their form, but found that the attire gave nothing away.

  “Okechukwu sent you?” Kayode asked.

  “I wasn’t aware I was speaking to Goggo the Decipherrer herself,” they replied, sarcastic. “Where’s the paper?”

  Kayode pushed his fingers just above his gums and pulled out a thoroughly folded and only slightly moist piece of paper.

  Kayode could not pierce beyond the dark veil that coated this stranger’s eyes, but in that instant he was certain they raised an eyebrow. “Cautious…”

  “Have to be,” he replied. Or you might end up killing me again.

  They reached towards the paper, and Kayode pulled his hand back and closed his fist.

  “Those symbols. What do they mean?” Kayode asked.

  “Do you seriously think I’m going to tell you?” the figure shot back.

  “Worth a try.” Kayode shrugged. “I do want something in return though.”

  “You haven’t yet proven you deserve anything. Be useful to us and the Marquess will free you of the Grand Duke’s shackles.”

  “No.”

  “No?” they tilted their head and leaned forwards now, tone serrated. “You are aware I could snap your hand open and pry that paper out of your mangled fingers, yes? Had I known it was in your mouth, I could’ve done something similar even then.”

  Okechukwu would string Kayode along with nothing to show for it forever, if he let him. So he simply could not let him.

  “If you do that…” Kayode inhaled, “It’ll be the last piece of information you ever get from me.”

  They leaned back and settled into the chair. “What do you want?”

  “Orcs, unconscious ones.”

  There was a pause. “I don’t really want to help you with any of your sick fantasies—"

  “—For Leveling,” Kayode cut in quickly. “I want to kill the Orcs not fuck them,” he clarified.

  That would be how he would get around the Duke’s restrictions. He didn’t know how powerful they were, but something told him they could manage an Orc. And if he was wrong they would simply ask to bring him something weaker.

  The figure relaxed, and another pause followed. “That can be managed. Most likely, unconscious Orcs that you poke with your Ida aren’t going to reward you with nearly as much Experience as if they were downed in the wild, but it certainly beats the baby Goblins you’re killing.”

  Good. Kayode noted that he was able to negotiate with them. That meant that this wasn’t just some messenger, but at the very least someone whom Okechukwu trusted enough to allow some level of autonomy in how they perform their duties.

  “Do the same thing you did today, tomorrow. There’ll be a new page with new content,” the stranger said.

  Kayode did not like the thought of sneaking back in there, but given the rewards he would be getting, he reckoned it might be worth it. “Fine,” he sighed. “As long as you come to collect with an Orc in tow.”

  “You’ll get your Orc by the end of the week. On my seventh day of collection.”

  Kayode reacted very much the way a man should when finding out the number of Orcs he thought he was receiving had been reduced by five-sixths. “That’s—”

  “—Still more Experience than two week’s worth of hunting Goblins can give you,” they cut him off.

  “That’s bullshit.” Kayode grinded his teeth. “Two Orcs a week,” he pushed back.

  “No. If the Grand Duke notices your strength increase far too rapidly, he’ll grow suspicious, putting you in his crosshairs, and making you useless to us.“ Then they added, this time stern rather than reasonable. “And if I give in to one more of your demands I’m signalling to you that I can be pushed around. And for the sake of our seamless business practices, we can’t afford that.”

  Kayode did not speak here. He had experienced what they did to people they decided couldn’t be worked with. This conversation was over, he had bargained all he would get from this person.

  The stranger seemed to understand as much as well. So they got to their feet, reached the window, and leapt down into the darkness of the night.

  Kayode sighed, and went back to sleep.

  ###

  The monster screamed and thrashed before its body finally went slack around Kayode’s Ida.

  [You have slain a Goblin of the 1st Awakening.]

  He felt his vessel tremble as Experience shook it. But no cracks formed. No Level Up.

  [—Skill(s) Acquired—]

  [Class Skill ? King’s Due — II — Passive: You can learn Skills 2x faster than you would have otherwise.]

  Kayode did not feel a wave of power like he had when he’d Levelled. Instead, he felt a restriction being undone—like an arm he had never known existed being unbound. The familiarity of the sensation told him he had experienced it before; it had been there during his Levelling, but that surge had overwhelmed everything else.

  “You have four more hours of hunting left, Lord Kayode,” came the voice of Sir Hale.

  Kayode turned to find him and Dame Brenner standing behind him dutifully in the woods—dutifully limiting his progress. “Very well,” he nodded.

  So that meant that their orders to limit him were time based. The man had said his issue last time was with Kayode hunting for over seven hours, and it seemed that was truthful. It also left Kayode more thankful of his decision not to snap at them yesterday, otherwise they might have been inclined to report it to the Duke and he might have taken his hostility as a reason to tighten his allotted time.

  He had, of course, considered using Sovereign’s Presence on them, and quickly discarded that idea. While it did make people more likely to obey him than they otherwise would be, an Oathguard would simply never break their oaths. Not just because of how seriously they took their jobs, but because any attempt to do so would leave them a spasming wreck on the ground.

  That was without even considering how stark Level gulf between them and Kayode was, or how the combat focused Skills they had might affect its feasibility.

  Or how they might respond to its failure.

  So they walked, and Kayode headed straight for the next area near the edge of what he’d been told was the goblin forest.

  He had to be fast, but not fast enough to scare off any potential prey. All that Kayode needed was a Level Up, just one, and he would consider today won.

  He found the opportunity with only thirty minutes to spare.

  A Goblin was sleeping at the root of a tree, chest rising and falling as it lost itself to dreams.

  Kayode took a step forwards, stepped on a branch, and saw the creature’s eyes snap open.

  It locked onto Kayode, then the figures behind him.

  And ran.

  Oh no you don’t, you tiny green fuck.

  Kayode gave chase.

  This Goblin was slower than the last. Or was he just faster? Regardless, Kayode was gaining on the little bastard.

  He was about to kick it when it sprinted beneath a rock that was too low for him to run under and too tall for him to leap over. So Kayode slid, kicking up mud, leaves, and dirt as he closed in on the Monster and rode a wave of panic as hard stone rushed by overhead.

  He felt his fingers brush the hairs of its back, closed his grip around it—and caught only air as it leapt onto a tree branch.

  It sprang for another, trying to escape through climbing where running had failed.

  Kayode hurled his sword at the Goblin. It missed, but struck the branch, slicing clean through the wood and sending the goblin crashing to the ground.

  Kayode charged. His boot came down hard where it landed, but met mud rather than bone. What? And then he saw a green shape climbing up his leg. Oh fuck! A phenomenal climber, the goblin leapt from leg to leg, raking bloody cuts along his flesh as it went, crawling higher and higher—closer and closer to his face.

  It clawed at his neck, dirty black nails questing for his life. But Kayode’s fist met it first, sending the Monster rolling into the dirt a dazed thing.

  Then his foot came down.

  This time stomping true.

  He stomped again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Until…

  [You have slain a Goblin of the 1st Awakening.]

  No Level Up…

  I did all that, and no Level Up?

  Kayode staggered back, a panting mess. He saw the knights behind him glance from his sweaty, muddy form to the green stain in the mud that had once been a Goblin…and look distinctly unimpressed. As if they were looking around for an invisible pair of extra Goblins he might have faced.

  Well, fuck you too.

  It was not the most dignifying match, but Kayode didn’t have much of an option to be dignified when he had two fucking Oathguards stiffling him at every opportunity.

  And he hadn’t even Levelled for it.

  [—Skill(s) Acquired—]

  [Class Skill ? By the Blade — I — Passive: You are a master of swordfighting. All sword attacks deal double damage.]

  He blinked. Well, that was something at least.

  He walked over to his weapon, resting against the side of a fallen tree, its edge buried in the dirt, hilt jutting upward. He meant to bend down and retrieve it.

  His body moved first.

  His foot came down on the hilt, spinning the blade up. His hand closed around it mid-rise, snatching it out of the air, grip perfect, motion effortless—as if he had done this a million times.

  Kayode just looked at the weapon in his grip with pure astonishment. He tilted it one way and then the other, testing its weight, and found that it felt more like an extension of him than a foreign object. By the Ancestors…

  “ G—great Lord Kayode, I believe we should be heading back now?” came the shaky voice of Dame Brenner. He turned to see both her and her fellow Knight disbelieving in what they had just seen.

  “Ofcourse,” Kayode nodded, and sheathed his blade—adding an awkward fumble here and there in a futile attempt to make them question what they had just seen.

  The Grand Duke would hear of this, that was certain. Though Kayode had no idea what he might make of it.

  Part of him wanted to be worried, but that was losing to the Kayode who was frustrated at not getting a Level Up or a chance to test his newest Skill.

  The Knight turned and began walking away. Kayode took a step, on the brink of following, and heard a ruffling in the bushes behind him.

  He whipped his head around and readied his weapon. Another Goblin? That would be a blessing. It wouldn’t be his fault a Monster came rushing at him. It was self defence—honestly Leveling was the last thing that was on his mind when he slew that green beast for all the Experience it was worth.

  The rustling grew louder.

  He unsheathed his blade and fell into a stance that left no room for error.

  And then Orcs emerged.

  Four of them—angry, muscular things with green skin and a height that forced him to crane his neck just to meet their eyes. Wild eyes. Frothing at the mouth. Jagged tusks jutted from their jaws, eager for something to clamp down on and snap.

  And then they were upon him.

  Four beasts, they covered the distance in the blink of an eye.His senses—no matter how honed they were—couldn’t keep up. There was no time to think, no space to react.This was it. He prepared to see his own horrified face staring back at him once more. Instead, he saw the first orc’s head split in two.

  Then another followed.

  Limbs came free in clean, invisible cuts, as if it were thin paper being split rather than slabbed muscle and thick bone. In seconds the Orcs around him came undone, their forms collapsing into chunks of gore and bloody meat.

  Kayode stood at the center of it all, unharmed.

  Ahead of him stood the Oathguards, armor spotless, faces unmarked and expressions ready—daring the forest to send another group of Orcs their way. The only stain upon them was the green vitae that dripped down from the edge of their weapons.

  Sir Hale spoke without turning to Kayode. “Orcs don’t normally come this far out. We apologize for letting the things come as close as they did. Are you injured?”

  “N-no,” Kayode managed, feeling his head spin.

  “Good. Then I suggest we head back home.” The Knight said, and sheathed his blade just as his partner was lowering her spear.

  It was then that Kayode had demonstrated a truth that he’d always known, but never fully grasped. Anything and everything he did in the presence of these Oathguards was purely because they allowed him to. He was alive because they wanted him alive. And if they wanted him dead…

  He would be.