Chapter 565: 567. Escorting a Princess

For the first time in quite a while Dallion had witnessed something that not only defied explanation to him, but all of his guardians as well.

Nil insisted that Hailstorm wasn’t a skill, and a quick check in Diroh’s awakening room proved that. Other than the ice dagger, there was no new frame on the walls, indicating that no new skills had been acquired. Dallion used his layer vision, and even Gleam to go over every inch of the room, making sure that the skill wasn’t somehow hidden. If it was, nothing he did managed to reveal it. Thankfully, that was largely irrelevant, for when they returned to the real world the fury’s pain had disappeared.

“Give it a while,” Dallion said as Jiroh tried to sit up, only to get dizzy. “It’s a bit confusing at first. You’ll get used to it the more you go into the realms. Keep it short for now. There will be time for longer visits later.”

“It’s so messed up,” the fury replied. “How do you get used to this?”

Dallion didn’t reply. Instead, he was looking through the gaps in the boarded window at what was going on outside. As he suspected, the mercenaries were back. For the moment they were just standing on the rooftops of nearby buildings, not even bothering to hide.

Skye, can you keep the sounds from reaching them? Dallion asked.

That’s what I’ve been doing, the cloud fox said with smug pride.

That wasn’t good. Not that a slip up would have been better, but at least then Dallion would know why they were keeping an eye on the fury. As things stood, there had to be some other reason entirely.

“Di, did you ask anyone for help when the pain started?”

“No chance.” The fury tried to stand up again. This time she managed, even if it was obvious that she was using air currents for support. “This is no longer a good place to ask for help. An awakened complained about feeling ill a while back and he was visited by the mercenary squad. Haven’t seen him since.”

The noble paranoia of the poison plague. There had been a lot of that going in the early days, especially in border towns. That was the whole point why Halburn nobles had hired fury mercenaries: they were the best thing money could buy after awakened. It also stood to reason that they would stop hunters from going through. Unlike sheltered awakened, hunters roamed all over the world.

And yet you chose to hire an awakened fury, Dallion said to himself.

“Does anyone know about Skye?” Dallion continued going to the other side of the window.

“No. I was very careful.” She joined him next to the window. “It’s the inn, not me. They offered to buy it for a ridiculously small amount. The mercenaries liked it, so they didn’t press as hard as they did the rest, but I’m pretty much the last one now.”

“What would they need the space for?”

“No idea. There are a lot of things that haven’t made sense in the last year. The best one can do is be quiet, keep her head down, and create no waves.”

Good advice, but Diroh must have broken it somehow. The fury who had approached Dallion a while ago was back, walking along the street, and this time he wasn’t alone. It didn’t take particular skill for Dallion to see that the person with him was a noble. He seemed rather young. Dallion didn’t remember seeing him before, but there was no telling how the local succession went. The only thing he could tell for certain was that the noble wasn’t hereditary.

“Have anything you value?” Dallion asked, stepping away from the window.

“Money,” Diroh said with a smirk. There was no denying that she was a barkeeper.

“Get it and get ready to leave.”

The fury looked at him for a few moments. A board in the room moved aside on its own, after which a pouch floated its way to her hand.

“Ready.”

“Get the bottle downstairs. We’re leaving.”

“I have some stuff stashed away if you want a drink.”

“It’s for Skye.” Dallion went back to the stairs.

Nil, how likely is the Order to get involved in a fight? Dallion asked.

That’s a difficult one, dear boy, the echo replied. They usually stay out of things unless it affects them or they get too out of hand. In this case, they might side with the noble. It’s his town.

What about outside?

You’re on a roll today, aren’t you? The Order most likely won’t do anything that includes helping you. The imperial legion outside… it all depends on what they really want. Frankly, it’ll be best not to rely on anyone for the moment. There are too many unknowns and you don’t have the time to figure out what is what.

My thoughts exactly.

Skye wasn’t particularly happy she had to hide in a bottle. Dallion could fully sympathize. Cloud creatures were known for wanting to keep clean, as were foxes. Taking the bottle, he put it in his backpack. While he did, Diroh’s pouch of coins also floated there as well.

“It’ll be safer there,” the fury said.

Dallion couldn’t disagree with that.

“Have a knife I can use?” she asked.

“No weapons. Nothing that can be mistaken for a weapon. If there’s any fighting, stay close to me. I’ll deal with it.”

“Shouldn’t you be telling me to run away?”

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“Only if you want to get caught or killed.” Dallion burst into three dozen instances and opened the door.

It soon became obvious that the noble had done the same. Twenty instances were waiting for Dallion.

“Hello, hunter,” the noble said. “There’s no need to enter an instance contest, right? You know you’ll lose.”

Confident, isn’t he? Dallion smiled.

He can afford to be. He’s at least fifteen levels higher than you. Even having a quarter of the skills fighting him won’t be a good idea.

“A mere precaution, my lord,” Dallion replied with a light bow. “I’m just here to escort one of our own out of your town. I’ll be gone in a couple of minutes.”

“She’s a fury, if I’m not mistaken. You’re not.”

“She’s the sister of a hunter.” Dallion stood his ground. “And a princess.”

Confusion emanated from the noble, though not the mercenaries. They knew precisely what Diroh was. If it wasn’t for the noble, Dallion would assume that was the reason they were watching her in the first place. Sadly, it didn’t seem to be the case.

“Interesting, but that doesn’t change a thing.” The noble quickly regained his composure. “She’s part of my town, so she stays.”

“Your town?” Dallion methodically kept combat spitting every second. The noble was doing it three times less often. His desire to impress only showed that he didn’t have much practical combat experience. Undoubtedly, he had the traits and skills to win in a fight, but there was no telling whether he was willing to go to the end. “I haven’t gone through here in a while, but I remember the last lord mayor.”

“The poison plague got him. It was a real tragedy. His niece runs the town now, and I make sure that things go smoothly.”

No doubt the country was going through its own political games—politics which Dallion knew nothing about and preferred it that way.

“My condolences and congratulations,” Dallion said. “The fury still needs to come to her own. How can I compensate for her absence?”

“You’ll be making her a hunter?”

“If that’s the Moon’s will.”

“Dallion Darude,” the noble said with a mocking smirk, “Known a while back as the Hero of Nerosal. I know exactly what you are and what you’ve done. That includes your debts. So, don’t insult me by saying that you can compensate me. Leave the fury, leave my town and things will be fine.”

“I can’t do that, my lord.”

Gleam, get ready. I don’t think he’s bluffing.

“Do you want to have a fight with all the war clerics around?”

In his mind, Dallion was already going through the options. The mercenaries weren’t going to be an issue, at least as far as Di was concerned. Given that they knew she was a princess, they’s not risk harming her even if ordered to do so. Dallion was fair game, of course, but his music skill told him they were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and be less likely to let him slip to a part of the city where there were war clerics. The noble, on the other hand, meant business. Dallion couldn’t see any obvious weapons, suggesting that he preferred short blades, or possibly ranged weapons. There was always the chance that the snob had come here unarmed, confident in his superiority. As much as that would match the man’s arrogance, Dallion doubted that he would be that stupid.

“I’m fine to play, if you are, hunter.” The noble smiled. Taking the hint, the fury mercenary next to him moved away.

Two sets of instances filled the scene. Dallion used his normal amount of sixty, while the noble went for a hundred. Back when he was in the part of the Icepicker guild, that would have been extremely impressive. However, after spending a while fighting in the wilderness, he knew that the number of instances didn’t always determine the winner, especially when he had learned the ability to force a specific instance taking place.

All of the noble’s instances charged forward. Each of them drew a curved talon knife, attacking Dallion’s instances at a ratio of three to one. The tactic was flawless. Someone quite skilled must have trained him to execute such an attack. Three to one was the minimal ratio at which a success was ensured. However, when it came to strategy, the flaws were painfully obvious. Instead of grouping his instances to get a better chance of defending himself, Dallion focused on those who were fleeing the scene along with Diroh.

Red rectangles appeared everywhere, stacking up as the attacks continued. Yet, just as the noble felt victory in his fingertips, Dallion forced a different reality. In it, the noble stood, weapons drawn, staring at an empty spot where an instance of Dallion had been moments ago. At the same time, Dallion and fury were ten feet away.

“I’d suggest we leave it at that, my lord,” Dallion said calmly, walking forward. Even so, three instances of him were looking over his shoulder.

If the noble was smart, he’d acknowledge what he had just experienced and back off. Unfortunately, the noble wasn’t particularly smart. Increasing the number of instances to a hundred and twenty, he charged at Dallion again.

This time, two instances of the noble attacked each of Dallion. Not only was that a mistake, but it was also poor tactics. Dallion could well have defended himself successfully in all instances, however, choosing the tactical play, he only focused on ten. In those ten, not only did he evade the attacks and fled with Diroh, but also landed a kick in the noble’s stomach.

“Want to continue, my lord?” he asked, after he had forced that particular instance.

“Get him!” the noble shouted. None of the mercenaries moved. “I said get him!”

“They heard you, but no one is willing to risk harming a fury princess. In fact, depending on whether her father is still alive, she might well be a fury queen. Harming one is never advisable. Cities have fallen for less.”

That was an outright lie, but as a hunter, Dallion had mastered the art well enough to sound convincing. Besides, it was doubtful that someone as full of himself as the noble would know enough about fury history to be aware.

“The district is empty, sir.” One of the furies stepped in. “The rest is for the Moons to decide.”

The noble glared at his subordinate, but didn’t say anything. What little sense he had kicked in making him see the obvious: that there was no way he could win under the circumstances.

“This isn’t the end of this, hunter.” The noble pointed at Dallion.

That’s what losers say. Dallion walked away, maintaining five instances, hand on Diroh’s shoulder.

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