Chapter 34: Arc 4: The Burning Port’s Reaper (1)

The Reaper

It was a simple name belying the simple occupation of reaping souls, and being a bane of immortality seekers from all walks of life.

However, in the Unity Lord’s harem, one woman held that job with a gusto. She wasn’t a master of Black Magic like the Agent of Black, or an unparalleled combatant like the Martial Queen. Instead, the short title of Reaper entailed two things — impeccable service as a servant and Princess of White’s personal enforcer.

Yes, every lady in the Unity Lord’s court could be considered the best in their field, but the Reaper’s field was the unholy job of assassination and enforcement. When she wasn’t busily helping the Lord’s Hospitality maintain the Residence, she acted as the lawman. Sure, the Princess of White was the head of the house, but the delegated legwork was Reaper’s job.

Agent of Black’s scheming? Called the Reaper. Martial Queen was picking a fight with the Angel of Red? Called the Reaper again. Voyager of Blue and Sorceress of Anathema accidentally caused a disaster? Called the Reaper and Princess of White because even Reaper couldn’t fight her natural counter alone.

Despite lacking aptitude for Mana, the Reaper was considered the forefront fighter of Unity Lord. Her raw close-quarter aptitude was only surpassed by one Martial Queen, and the duel could go either way depending on who drew first-blood.

Despite her decorated resume, her wedding into the Unity Lord’s fold was almost doubtful at first.

Then again, the sacking of Eleanor was the time of doubt and fire.

…

The tale of the woman who would become known as the Reaper began inside the Residence of the Lord.

Aside from the specific domain such as Amy’s Cottage and the Cave of Grace, the decoration inside the Residence of Lord was more or less a constant. Checkered marble hallways led to the room's circular stone round table. Light flowed into the room from the mystical ceiling above. Stain glass windows embedded into the walls of the round, solemn room — it was the throne room of the Unity Lord.

The Residence of the Lord was, without a doubt, spartan. However, that fact wasn’t clear until a certain Elizabeth La Louve joined. Between the two domains belonging to Amy and Xia, they never had the accommodation problem. Xia loved hogging Ciel’s attention in bed, so the Unity Lord more or less slept in her room after passionate activity. As an avatar of the Residence, Caislean never needed sleep. But in the rare case in which the secretary wanted human rest, she could always bunk at Amy’s place.

Then a homeless dethrone heiress of the Magic Kingdom logged on to the household.

Unlike Xia and Amy, who adapted cleanly to their new role in life, Betty simply didn’t. She doesn’t use her privilege to create a personal domain. Betty was hesitating in limbo. Unable to leave her life as Elizabeth La Louve in the past, the idol of Curtis (now Advanced Research Empire Intelligentsia) hesitated to build her domain.

For Betty, following Xia’s footstep right to the literal bed with Ciel was skin to tossing aside her identity as a human, and she couldn’t stomach that.

Hence, she spent the week of the journey to Eleanor avoiding the group, instead contributing by volunteering to be the librarian.

Caislean watched Betty join the table with a mild bit of concern. Betty could have gone to Amy for temporary accommodation, but she stayed inside the barren [Library] unless she needed to attend the meeting. In contrast to her fashionista habit, Betty had been using the same red dress for a week, and it was wearing her clothes down. Things got to the point even Caislean was worried about her.

“Do you think she is fine?” The black hair, doll-like secretary whispered to the red-head in her usual hood.

“Betty?” Amy replied. “I don’t think so. Etaceh just stole Curtis right from under her nose, and well…”

The red-head in a matching hood looked at the refreshed head-wife with shining platinum-blond hair and all-white attire walking into the room with a frazzled-looking Ciel. It was obvious what they were making out before the meeting. Amy dreaded to know what stage they had reached. The only thing she knew was that Xia was researching birth-control, given her active sex-life.

Amy wasn’t mistaken Xia’s foray into contraceptives for the dislike of children. Xia wanted a kid, but maternity leave by the Princess of White would spell a disaster for the continent in current climate.

If Amy (and Caislean) were honest, they would address their massive bones against the two couple's shameless display of affection. However, in doing so, they would admit they wanted to quit maidenhood and competed for the bed. Deep down, they knew the ship had already sailed when they ended with Ciel, but they weren’t down to that level of carnal degeneracy yet.

Thus, to repress their bubbling desire, they ignored the couple's blatant activity.

However, the newbie in conflict with herself wasn’t exactly passive at the two.

“Can you two stop making out before the meeting!?” Betty yelled at her sister and boyfriend(?). This past week, she quickly noticed all the unavoidable signs that both her usually straight-lace sister and her friend (maybe) both behaved like animals in heat. Betty didn’t know why she was so mad, but this felt wrong on fifty different levels for her. “You two should mind other people!”

Amy (and Caislean) silently agreed with the librarian.

However, Betty was outgunned by Xia.

“Oh, you can join us too,” Xia stated. “Stop tying yourself into a knot and start enjoying life, sis.”

“Enjoy life?” Betty said. “The entire Eastern Continent could go aflame tomorrow.”

“And why do you care?” Xia said. “Afraid your former fans will burn like the rest of the continent?”

Betty couldn’t believe Xia pulled such a low-blow.

Xia further cemented her superiority, “Sis, you lost Curtis. Pretty much everyone abandoned you in favor of a fever dream concocted by a smartass Lord. A smartass Lord who you opened the gate for. Now, I’m not pointing fingers, but your little denial already cost us,” she faked confusion, “how much exactly? How about an ENTIRE NATION. Please color me doubtful when a person who is so confused about her life tells me how to live mine.”

Betty's mouth hung open from Xia’s one-sided smackdown. “Xia,” Betty said. “You talk like you don’t give a damn about the continent.”

“Betty, the only group of people I give a single damn about is in this room,” Xia said.

“Xia,” Ciel pointed to both Caislean and Amy, who tried to pretend the conversation never happened.

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“Oh, come on, you two,” Xia turned her attention to both of them. “How long are you planning to thread water in the second-base?”

Amy turned into a bashful mess, “I-I…”

Caislean bowed and said uncharacteristically humbly, “I’m simply a humble spectator. I wouldn’t dare cut in line.”

Betty yelled, “Not everyone is a degenerate like you, sis! And when did you turn into such an animal!”

Xia yelled back, “Maybe when someone did nothing when I’m being worked to death by Spade.” Xia then countered back. “Come on, Betty, I know why you’re so twisted.” She leaned closer to a confused Ciel. “You want it to be you, right?”

Betty stuttered.

It was then Xia unleashed her trump card.

The General Manager of the harem nestled against Ciel. “Dearest,” Xia said. “I believe Betty wanted to spend some time with you. Can we skip the meeting and give her some ‘tutorial’ in the bed?” She turned up the heat in her voice. “Maybe a little ‘exercise' will help her sort through her depression.”

Ciel knew Xia’s angle, and personally, he didn’t have it in him to refuse. He knew Betty was pretty wound tight, and the meeting wasn’t urgent. “That’s fine,” Ciel said. “I don’t mind moving the meeting.”

Betty realized where this was going and backpedaled to safety at an inhuman speed. “It’s fine!” She squeaked. “I’ve no problem anymore!” She quickly retreated into the metaphorical hole. “I’m sorry for being so wound up! Let us continue with the meeting!”

“Yes,” Amy watched with the eyes of a dead-fish. “Let us continue with the meeting.”

Xia stretched her ample chest out with pride. “Excellent,” she clapped, “Okay a briefing about Eleanor then. I believe most of us never go there.”

“Fine,” Betty said. “Allow me to begin with what exactly is the Mercenary Port Eleanor.”

…

To the east of Magic Kingdom, behind the territory of the Forest of Separation, lay multiple city states stretching to the coast of the Eastern Ocean. These conflicting states all answered to a single superpower of a city—the Mercenary Port Eleanor.

Eleanor was a port-city and the largest trade-hub in the Eastern Continent. Ships and merchants came to trade at the majestic port of ivory, concrete and steel. A visitor on land would be greeted by a majestic height of civilization—artistically shaped and vividly painted concrete buildings to accommodate visitors. All of which were protected with gilded walls of enchanting metal. Tourists would never miss the visit to the spiraling tower of beautiful obsidian, gilded with silver metal — the Onren. This black spiral tower sat in the center of Eleanor as the center of its power — an abode which the enigmatic founder of Eleanor made his home. It was the mark of the richest man on the Eastern Continent.

As if hiding a rot beneath the wholesome skin, the inner structure of the Mercenary Port was a tale of stark inequality. Tuck away under the shadow of art and architecture was a maze of slums and poverty where criminals and sell-swords made their home. These slums supplied cheap labor to fuel the market. The income disparity meant crime and corruption in Eleanor were terminal. Nearly any crimes could be covered up with enough currency (gold, gem, Accel etc.) to bribe the officials. The city morals were in the gutter, and it showed. From the depraved slave-trade, human trafficking, cut-throat war-profiteering, and unregulated trade of narcotic, the city state of Eleanor was the place where wealth was prioritized over humanity.

It was the place where the Unity Lord had any shot of triumphing over the Lord of Mechanical Magic—the Empress of Advanced Research Empire, the Prime Intelligentsia—Etaceh.

…

“Basically, Eleanor is Acceltra’s greatest scam artist,” Xia said. “The entire place is a malicious den of bandits, hiding beneath a civilized veneer.”

The group sat in contemplation.

“Okay, can they help us against Etaceh,” Amy said.

“We can get some mercenaries,” Ciel admitted. “But we need a Lord to do damage to her.”

Elizabeth was doubtful. “Fat chance,” She said. “This is Eleanor, folks. They’re more likely to rub their hand waiting to profit from the carnage than do something.”

“Mistress Elizabeth,” Caislean said as secretary. “I doubt Eleanor will sit and do nothing after Etaceh’s declaration.”

“You don’t know Eleanor,” Betty snorted. “That place is rotten to the core. Self-preservation and national security are the last thing on their mind.”

“They will listen to their Lord, right?” Amy said. “He must still be controlling a city. He’s like Ciel and Etaceh — immortal beings older than Acceltra. I doubt he will do nothing when the danger is this close.”

“We need confirmation,” Xia said.

“I have a way to talk to him,” Ciel said. “I have a feeling I know the guy.” He sighed, to the group’s surprise. “Don’t be so excited. It’s only an educated guess about who is running the place.” Ciel further explained. “But I need to make sure my message reaches him through the barricade. Eleanor sounded like a place where it is almost impossible for a message from a stranger to make it to the receiver without personal connection or wealth.”

“I agree,” Caislean nodded. “Approaching normally will get you knifed, mugged, and raped in the back alley, my master.”

“Stop it, Caislean,” Xia warned the maid about her nightmare-fuel commentary. “So we need someone that can’t be ignored. A person they are familiar with — a famous royalty with a connection she could use.”

All eyes turned toward Betty.

“Oh, fuck me,” Betty said. “Do I need to repeat how much I hate that shithole?”

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