Silas had a lot of preparations to complete before he was ready to leave. While he watched the mounted soldiers carry the hollow away in chains, Silas tracked down 25 bodies of Red Indians. He found their supplies including some leather bedrolls in the hollowed-out interior of a massive oak tree and wrote formations on them. After that, most of his work included rolling the bodies in them and tying them to a wooden sled he threw together. Two of the wizard guards John brought stayed with him as he worked.
John left with William Penn to convince the man to hand ownership of the hollow over to the Grisham family.
“I don’t understand the point of what thou art doing. Why preserve the bodies of savages?” The man asked.
“While the soul is gone and the mind dead, the bodies can be made to move and pick the harvest,” Silas said.
Silas saw the bodies more like machinery than deceased people. After the flashbacks, he had changed, falling off the wagon of the new world and back into a cultivator’s mindset. Even heroic sects used a little flesh puppeteering for mundane matters. Normally they were only used in areas where malignant energy was already prevalent. With his formations to convert their produced malignant energy into spirit energy, they would make excellent tools.
It would take him some time to come up with replacement ingredients for the alchemic materials he needed and a month to get the proper formations set up. After that, he would use them to clean up malignant areas or for any menial task he needed. Silas would need to hire them as employees in a century to show he was ahead of the morality curve.
“I think slaves art better than this. At least when they die, we let them rest.” One guard said.
“Methinks Aztec Shinigami art sent to send them to the thereafter to circumvent their vengeance,” Silas said.
He was getting a handle on the game and wouldn’t let some random wizards try to play at being moral.
John and the wizards weren’t his concern anymore, Silas wasn’t dumb enough to think Soul Society would let this go unanswered, especially not Yoruichi. He only hoped he made a good enough impression on Soifon to stay the assassin’s blade.
Dotty nudged his shoulder, and he shrunk away from the contact. While it was on the mend, his wound wasn’t better. He could barely lift his left arm and used his aura to compensate. Silas wanted to get done in town, go home to his drafty shack, and sleep. At least there, he knew the fence would keep anything dangerous out. All he had to worry about here was the plotting of his 6 untalented initiates.
The first 10% should have been a cakewalk; they didn’t have to learn any breathing techniques, only how to manage the cultivation of their veins. It was easy enough to learn by doing, especially with spirit water. But before he left, they were all in the single digits, and none were above 5%. So either they resisted for religious reasons or were trash among the trash, only viable for the most mundane jobs.
Turning them into recruiters wouldn’t work because of their religious backgrounds. He had been toying around with an idea to establish contribution points for further teachings but wouldn’t bother. Silas was going to get married to a witch and hopefully have a bunch of kids. He could wait a couple of decades before starting a sect in earnest, or maybe he was going about it wrong.
He had recruited slaves and an overseer. Maybe he should have gone to a tavern and found the roughest bastard there to recruit. Beat the guy to an inch of his life to show him who’s boss, then recruit him. A man respects the guy who can beat him in a fistfight, not the one who hands them the keys to immortality. Obviously, he needed to die, wait three days and resurrect or have someone write about it and claim there were witnesses hundreds of years later.
Silas calmed down and went back to work stacking the bodies on the sled until all 25 were stacked and ready to be transported. Then he mounted Dotty, who didn’t give a damn about his weight or the bodies, and pranced down the trail like neither bothered her.
Dotty was the best horse there ever was and no one could tell him differently.
His boss mare was sturdy, and he already picked a stallion out for her they could meet since his issues with the hollow was on hold. Spring would come soon enough, and she would probably like to be bred. Spirit beasts reproduced often, and they were known to enchant the lands they dwelled on. Herd animals like horses could enchant his land even more, allowing unique herbs to grow. Her existence also produced some spirit energy even while she absorbed it. There really was no such thing as a closed system.
…
Cold wind swept through the land under dense cloud cover while the gate to Low Delaware town came into view. He couldn’t sense Soifon anymore, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t nearby. Soifon could hide herself when she wanted to.
John was in his home, and the hollow was on its way to William Penn’s home. Travel bans were sure to be lifted, and trade would feed the town enough that he wouldn’t be so indispensable.
Silas ordered the guards to get his wagon and see to his list of supplies while he spoke with their master. Dotty was treated to a bag of oats drizzled with honey because he felt like splurging on her. Taking care of his mount was important.
“Hark thee, I believe thou need work on thy farm. My name is Eugene Currier, and my fellows and I art in desperate need of work.” Eugene said.
The man was young and radiated incredible spiritual energy. Fighting him wasn’t an option, and Silas wasn’t sure if he could do anything to stop the man from tracking him down. It seemed that just as one problem was solved, another three rose. There was also what he knew awaited him in John’s office.
John’s spiritual energy fluctuated like he was finally facing the music. Silas wished he could listen to that conversation.
Silas couldn’t tell the man no and he did need help. His best bet was to get the Shinigami to follow him home. Maybe they were curious enough to act as a deterrent to the bounts.
“Perhaps thou could be of use to me. Mayhap I have posts to drive, fields to clear, and too many projects for even a handful of men to complete. But what of thee. Do thou wish to bring thy own troubles to my humble farm? If so, I warn thee I know of some who art powerful and one who I call cousin.” Silas said.
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The man’s red eyes only showed up to his spirit sense to his mortal eyes; they were blue. Moreover, the man had gone to unnecessary lengths to dye his hair black instead of curling it to look like a powdered wig. Either the man didn’t care for the style or didn’t want to look wealthier than what was true.
Silas had been told by John repeatedly to buy a wig. All the men of good breeding wore them, after all. While Silas hadn’t come from money, he had grown a mighty harvest yield and developed a spiritual land from scratch. Soon by his estimation, the entire lake could be considered diluted spirit water. If he was unlucky, the fish within would develop into ferocious spirit beasts and maybe a few demon beasts. So adding some powerful bounts if they could be trusted wasn’t a terrible idea.
“That is one of the reasons why we wish to work with thee. Shinigami have attacked us in the past.” Silas looked around to see if anyone had listened to the brazen idiot.
“I can not protect thee from soul reapers, or I won’t be able to for some decades yet. Will thy presence summon the reapers to my gates? Even a friend of them must fear being slain if their government wills it.” Silas said.
“Art thy lands uniquely suited to hide our presence from the hollows?” Eugene asked.
“Methinks there is little to stop thee from killing me and taking my lands if I agree. Trust in thou tis hard when I am at a disadvantage.” Silas said.
Eugene held out his revealing a metal box. “This is my crest, and within it holds all my powers. If thou at any time decided we were enemies destroying it will end my life.”
“Thou would not survive living in Persia. But sure, I will take it as thy oath of good behavior. I expect thy people to work as I will for the benefit of our sanctuary.” Silas said, and the man seemed to calm down. “Pack up thy people and prepare to leave out the gate in few hours. We have many miles to travel before nightfall.
In Persia, people were taught not to lie thousands of years ago from an early age. Lying was considered a capital offense punishable by death. They were a society that did not lie, and their dealings were always fair. As a people, they wielded diplomacy as a weapon surer than a cavalry charge. Eugene lied to him about the shiny metal box he gifted Silas.
Silas would warn Soifon if she was waiting for him like Silas suspected and ask her to return in a month to make sure he wasn’t killed.
He made his way to the nice side of town and contacted the gate guard let him in. There was a tension in the home that hadn’t been there before and not from John losing his chance to redeem the hollow. Silas figured the man had lost hope after getting a feel for Oscar. The boy that became the hollow was only a single personality among dozens and so mutated it was unrecognizable.
He stepped by a portrait of John, his wife, and three daughters on the wall. They were much younger during that time. John had said something about a new family portrait being made soon before his oldest daughter was married.
Thus far, John was still alive from what he could sense, but that could change depending on Yoruichi’s feelings. Her report to soul society would surely be interesting. Honestly, Silas had no idea why John was still alive. More than likely it had something to do with the politics between soul society and Reverse London.
The authority to eliminate hollows solely belonged to Shinigami. It was such an important part of their existence that they would fight against those who infringed on it. After all, only a Shinigami’s blade could purify hollow souls and send them to the cycle of reincarnation. Silas could only turn their malignant energy into pure spirit energy, Quincy could only destroy them, and he had no idea what wizards did to them. Still, wizards were a part of soul society's west branch, and the new world was technically in the west. John might be someone of authority in the new world or the relative of someone with power.
Silas walked into the sitting room where he spoke to William Penn before seeing two stealth force Shinigami watching the door. At seeing them, his theory about John holding any position with parity to a captain in the new world went out the window. But, then again, John had interfered directly with Shinigami business and imprisoned Soifon to prevent her from carrying out her rightful duties.
“Art thou Silas Flex?” The guards asked.
“I am good, Shinigami. How is mistress Soifon?” Silas asked.
The two looked at each other, and one knocked on the door. “Let him in,” Yoruichi said.
The door opened, revealing the blond hair of Kisuke Urahara in Shinigami robes, Soifon standing respectively to the side, and captain Yoruichi sitting at the desk with her legs propped up. John sat bound in a low-level restraining spell in a chair in front of the desk.
“Welcome back; if thou hadn’t come swiftly, I would have sent members of my own squad after thee,” Yoruichi said.
“I am sorry to leave thou waiting, but I would not have left without seeing Mistress Soifon free Mistress Yoruichi. Though I had a feeling thou would be by soon to rescue her.” Silas said.
Yoruichi nodded her head. “It appears that thou have not destroyed the hollow or compromised the balance of souls. Unlike the Quinces, thy own methods do not harm the balance of souls though judgment will ultimately be ruled by central 46. For the moment, I am tempted to let thou go with a warning to abstain from interfering with soul reaper business. Thou have even given me a great service for protecting my little bee. Is there anything thou would ask of me?” Yoruichi asked.
“I would ask Soifon to return on patrol in a month to ensure I remain among the living,” Silas said.
Soifon straightened at that, and even Yoruichi tensed. “Thou art not weak. What concerns could thou have?” Yoruichi asked.
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