Chapter 121: 121: Consolidating Power 101

There was silence so complete that Calvin could hear his own heart hammering in his chest, and the harsh breathing of his troops.

The sight of a seven foot tall obese man completely naked underneath a fine silk robe throw himself to the ground and begin groveling before any stabbing had taken place threw Calvin a bit, but he recovered quickly.

“Okay, I’m assuming he wants to be last.” Calvin said, pointing. Strangely enough, three of the other red-robed men dropped to the ground an instant behind their leader. Murak, the skin and bones moneylender, a full-bearded fellow who might have been the youngest man there, and a third man he didn’t recognize.

“Please spare us your wrath, we only wished to find you, Ravager.” The huge man said into the ground.

“Huh?”

“Do you actually have to listen to what they say to kill them? Rufe asked, eyeing one of the standing old men, who paled.

“What are you doing!?” The largest, second-youngest cultist said, pulling out a heavy mace.

“Stop!” the big man on the ground hissed, but it was already too late.

Seeing the weapon, the villagers leapt into action, wielding their blades with feral snarls, and all Abyss broke out.

The big cultist swung at Rufe with his mace, catching the hunter in the chest and catapulting him backward, despite his magical armor. Rufe slammed into another cultist and crushed him against the wall. The red-robed old man collapsed bonelessly to the ground as Rufe stood up, patting the tiny dent in his armor with disbelief.

The armed cultist didn’t have time to follow up as more villagers swarmed out of the hole, attacking the cultist with a weapon, attacking the other cultists, who panicked and ran, scurrying around the edge of the pit in  complete disarray.

In short, it was a total clusterfuck.

The big cultist pulled some kind of shenanigan with his mace, and suddenly it had grown by twice the size, and had an extra head on the other side. He was industriously thwacking villager after villager with the strength of a Legend who was trained for war.

He was better than they were, it was undeniable, but they were Legends too, and they were much angrier.

The big man flung two villagers off of him and caught the attack of a third, only for the Abyssal blade to shear the inferior material in half and cut a long streak of red down his right side.

He took the severed halves and reversed his grip, knocking the villager aside and moving to deal with the next one. Calvin scanned the room and took in the chaos. Old scruffy men chasing old silk-robed men

Leaders create order out of chaos.

Shifting

7/31 Bent remaining

6/31 Bent remaining

5/31 Bent remaining

4/31 Bent remaining

3/31 Bent remaining

2/31 Bent remaining

Calvin tapped his thumb to the vial of water on his belt, targeted each cultist, and five spots in the walls and ceiling, burdening the red-robed men with the weight of a ton of stone, dropping them to their hands and knees in short order.

“STOP!” Calvin roared, getting the attention of the villagers. Rufe looked up curiously, moments away from beheading one of the cultists.

Calvin knew the cultists had to be Legends, and would throw off the spell quickly, so he also targeted the floor beneath their hands and knees with Viscosity Shifting to bind their movements. Sink them into the stone then take away it’s fluidity, and he had the perfect restraints.

Error: Viscosity Shifting has been subsumed by Trait Doctoring. Mass limit 1 pound.

One of the cultist’s knees dipped a fraction of an inch into the floor.

Son of a bitch.

Calvin played it off. They didn’t know he’d failed. As far as they knew, he took everyone to the ground with a single Bent, and that’s what he needed them to believe.

“I know you’re pissed.” Calvin said. “But trust me. We can’t kill them in a mob. There’s an order to these things.”

The villagers scowled at being denied their vengeance, looking between Calvin and Loren.

The old survivor broke into a cold smile and nodded to Rufe, who sighed and took his blade away from the cultist’s neck.

They looked at Loren. Calvin thought, sparing an extra moment to study the old villager who’d pioneered surviving the Filter.

How do I fix that?

Welcome to politics. My least favorite aspect of wizard king-dom.

Calvin glanced aside and spotted one of the villagers, a solid, scarred woman, carrying a pot made out of bones, scaling the side of the pit with one hand on the rope. In the pot was a rooted mass of slimy blue-green tentacles wrapped around an Unqua, riding the tiny shelled creature like a lethargic steed.

“Is that…”

“Squelch.” The woman said. “I ran back to her house and asked her if she’d like to move up top and meet more people, and she said yes.”

“You must be Calvin,” the tiny ball of tentacles said in a squeaky voice, extending one slimy extension towards Calvin, who shook it. “I’ve heard so much about you from the men who visit me, and let me tell you, it doesn’t do you justice. You smell divine.”

“…cool.” Calvin said, staring at the ball of tentacles and estimating it’s real size. Humans were small enough to fit inside the unqua’s shell four at a time. A creature so big that it had to ride outside the damn thing was…big.

“’ta.” The tentacle monster said, waving as the woman carried her away.

That was interesting. I forgot about Squelch. Rufe only mentioned her once.

“Alright,” Calvin said, returning his attention to the eight pinned men. Three of the cultists had died already, from swords to the face and one from being crushed against the wall.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this,” Calvin said, rubbing his hands together. “And here’s what’s going to happen.” It was going to involve a lot of pain and humiliation, that was for sure. Nobody tosses me down a hole and leaves me for dead and gets away with it.

Calvin heard someone clear their throat, and he glanced over his shoulder.

Kala and Nadia were standing there, arms crossed in disapproval.

“What’s going to happen is I’m going to confer with my princess and my hellspawn.” Calvin said. “Keep them under control.” He pointed at the wounded cultist specifically before heading over to the princesses.

“What?”

“We decided that right now would be an excellent time to receive a brief primer on establishing a firm rule.” Kala said, before pointing at her peer. “Nadia?”

“When taking power, you can’t kill everyone who already holds power.” Nadia said.

“What?”

“You need the city you just conquered to keep running smoothly. These eleven –“ She glance over at the three corpses. “Eight men are lynchpins, or keys, that keep the industries they are in charge of going strong. If you kill all of them, you will create complete anarchy in the city of Uleis as their underlings struggle to fill the gaps and fight against you. You’ll wind up having to kill or enslave far more people than you would have otherwise.”

“Huh.” Calvin grunted, mind trying to soak this up like a dry sponge. So…don’t kill them? then how am I in charge of the country? Isn’t it the same as before?

“So..don’t kill them?”

Nadia sighed and nodded to Kala.

“Don’t kill all of them. You need to take control of the wealth of Uleis, then use that wealth to incentivize the loyalty of the men who control its industry, law and military.” Kala said, ticking them each off with her finger.”

Calvin frowned, deep in thought. “So you’re saying I need to…reward the men I just conquered?”

“After you kill the ones you don’t need.” Nadia said, a hint of a smile growing on her face.

Grab them by the purse-strings, kill the majority of them, redistribute their power between them and take the lion’s share for myself. Calvin thought.

That’s both pragmatic and far more sinister than I thought.

“What would I do without you, Kala?”

“Probably die to a revolt or assassination, or failing that, run Uleis into a state of complete anarchy while you bumble through the politics.” Kala said. Nadia seemed a bit miffed that she didn’t warrant appreciation.

Calvin glanced over at the eight old men, eyes settling on the wealthiest among them, Murak.

Murak the moneylender, richest of the twelve, and Orson, the leader of the Sand-stretch group, who’d controlled and profited from the flow of goods through Uleis. Between those two, there was fantastical amount of money to be made.

Calvin had already taken steps to replace Orson. Why not take it one step further?

Calvin took a sword out of a nearby hand and walked up to Murak, where the gnarled elder was pressed flat on the stone floor.

“How would you like to live?” Calvin asked, squatting down to the old man’s level so they could speak privately.

“I could be persuaded,” Murak said, glancing up at him.

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“Eighty-five percent of your current wealth.” Calvin said, resting the tip of the sword beside

“I’d rather die. Five percent.”

“This is not a negotiation. Eighty-five percent, or I go to your fearless leader with the offer after I kill you and cannibalize your assets.”

Calvin leaned close to the gnarled moneylender’s ear.

“Your money would make quite the windfall in buying the others off. I’m going to get it, one way or the other. I’m betting you don’t even have a will.”

Murak’s eyes narrowed, and Calvin felt the sting of wounded pride. Of course the skinflint didn’t want to give anyone else his money in the event of his death. It would be claimed by the state. Or in this case, Kurawe, their leader.

Now the carrot.

“I’m also thinking about having someone run Orson’s business.” Calvin whispered, and Murak’s eyes widened, staring into the floor. “What could you do with fifteen percent of your wealth and the ability to run both sides of the equation?”

“Fifty percent.” Murak said, his face beginning to glow with enthusiasm.

“Seventy-five,” Calvin said, getting down to the actual negotiation.

Murak let out a quiet, guttural growl. “Two thirds, you cunt.”

“Deal.” Calvin said, standing. He walked over to the massive cultist on the floor.

“Ravager, we of the order of the seeking hand have a divine mission to seek out –“

Without preamble, Calvin cut his head off.

There was a collective gasp of fear as the huge man’s neck began squirting blood violently, his neck tumbling forwad, past the two sacrifices, still bound and gagged. The head tumbled into the Pit of the Abyss, a look of stunned surprise on his face.

Calvin couldn’t afford to keep the leader of these men alive, no matter how cooperative he was. Their members would always seek him out as a leader rather than Calvin, and that was unacceptable.

“Who’s his successor?” Calvin asked, glancing around. Gods, I hope he’s not one of the three dead guys.

“Me,” The energetic cultist with the mace growled, restrained by no less than three villagers.

“What do you do?”

“I’m the Supreme Commander.”

Military.

“Do you run law enforcement as well?” Calvin asked.

“Yes.”

“How would you like his job?” Calvin said, pointing at the dead giant. “And a hefty raise.”

Calvin felt the gears of self-interest turning in the man’s head as he matched Calvin’s gaze, and he knew the man would say yes, for as long as it profited him.

“I’d like that.”

“Then when we leave this room, divert your men toward peacekeeping during the transition, I want everyone nice and calm, continuing to do their jobs. Do you think you can handle that?”

He nodded.

“What’s your name?” Calvin asked.

“Polluq.”

“Polluq, as long as you keep working for me, bounty will flow freely, but if I wake up with the Uleisan police at my door, I’ll tear this glass city to the ground by myself.”

“Understood.”

Calvin felt a hand on his shoulder, and glanced over to see Loren, watching him with a frown. “How can you forgive these men? Each and every one of us suffered at their hands.” His weathered face was set in a flat stare. Calvin felt barely restrained anger radiating off of him.

“Look at it this way,” Calvin said, standing to address him. “What happens if we kill these men? The entire city devolves into anarchy. We might get control back eventually, but do you really want to cause that many wasted lives, and waste that much time? These men might be evil, but those who would suffer if they die aren’t.”

“They are your people. Calvin said.

Loren scowled, glancing around the room at the pacified leadership of Uleis. He glanced back at Calvin.

“Keep them on a tight leash.” He said, finally. Calvin could tell from his gaze that he wasn’t happy. Or entirely convinced. Loren headed for the door, nearly two thirds of the villagers following after him. About two dozen hesitantly stayed behind, glancing between Calvin and Loren.

Rufe stayed, along with about ten more of the younger villagers, the hesitators split up, most of them trailing after loren. The mute girl, Dara, hesitated longer than most, but finally decided to stick with Calvin. Seeing this, Ryan looked torn, glancing between the mute and Nadia, before scratching the back of his head furiously and sitting against the wall, glaring silently.

He glanced at Nadia, and she glanced back, casual disregard in her every behavior…but…

Open Book Informed him that the relationship between Nadia and Ryan was that of a domineering controller and unwilling servitor.

Interesting.

One of the serious faults of Chained Spirit was that Continuity allowed Nadia to see through his eyes, constantly. She knew almost everything he did, but he could not say the same.

Now he knew something she didn’t expect him to know, and he needed to find a way to leverage that.

Extensive training has increased your attributes!

+1 Intuition

No wonder royals are so messed up.

Calvin glanced over at Rufe, the old hunter with his foot on a red-robed back. The man hadn’t made a single move to follow Loren.

“I told you I’d help you overthrow whoever you want,” Rufe said as he met his gaze with a shrug.

“And I appreciate that,” Calvin said as he observed Polluq climb to his feet. I need to cull the herd before this Polluq fellow gets any bright ideas.

Now that Loren had left, presumably seeking to gaze at the sky for the first time in fifty years, they no longer outnumbered the cultists quite so heavily.

In the corner of the room, he felt one of the cultists whip his hand forward, and a spinning piece of something sharp and hard hurtled through the air toward his neck.

Calvin caught it in midair between two whorls of Bent, the knife hovering in midair, trapped by the opposing swirls of invisible energy.

Everyone stared at him in stunned silence as Calvin plucked the knife out of the air with his hand.

“Get rid of that.” Calvin said, pointing at the culprit without looking. A moment later, a sword came down on the offending cultist and another one was relieved of their life.

six dead, two employed, four left.

Calvin walked up to each of the remaining cultists and asked what their area of specialization was, focusing on how they interacted between making him money and keeping the Uleisan government stable.

He killed all but one of them, the bearded farmer, who’d been among the first to surrender. One Ghuled Bassaan. The man was in charge of feeding the peasants, and that was something Calvin couldn’t overlook.

It’s too bad old man Asabei died in the fighting, Calvin thought. He found the old man amusing.

“Mr. Bussan.”

“Yeah?” the bearded farmer asked, cowering and looking intently at the floor.

“You have just found your responsibilities expanded. Of the three of you-“ Calvin said, pointing between the three of them. “- you are the most likely to win the favor of the people. So I want you to do that. Become the face of the new regime. Keep people fed, keep them happy, keep them working.”

Calvin turned to Murak. “You are the banks. Forge as many papers as you have to.” Calvin pointed at the blood stains lining the pit. “The property and businesses of the twelve members of the Seeking Hand will be transferred to me. Until such time as I own the city of Uleis, you aren’t going to be allowed to leave my sight.”

Calvin scanned the survivors.

“And you three will be the stewards of that wealth, for a generous slice of the pie. Understood?”

Murak started giggling into the floor.

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” The withered old moneylender said, pushing himself up and wiping tears away from his eyes. He pointed toward the bloodstain where Kurawe had been.

“He said that one day I would run into a problem having more money than everyone else couldn’t solve.” Murak burst into chuckles again.

Macronomicon

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