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Nero Walker, Book 4 Ch.64 (295)
🕑 Added 2025-02-17 23:30:01 +0000 UTCIn the bowels of the keep, the command center hummed along like a well-tuned machine. The walls were filled with monitoring stations, each being manned with dedication and skill. Everyone present went about their tasks in a coordinated dance, filling the ether with a sense of calm determination that permeated the entire room. It was clear that the army’s overall functionality had improved drastically with all the experience they’d been getting.
On the central dias in the middle of the room, Commander Dahl leaned back in his chair, his expression making it clear that what he’d just heard had him deep in thought. The two other people seated at the table waited patiently for him to finish, the sounds of chatter from the teams along the walls filling the silence.
After a few seconds of serious pondering, the commander’s eyes locked back on the captain across the table and asked, “When you say ‘gated illusions’, what exactly do you mean by that? I was under the impression that the mages have figured out how to see past the kobald’s illusions.”
The captain who’d been serving on one of the teams currently working as intermediaries between the army and the Tower of Magic replied, “Well, sir, these new illusions aren’t like what they were using to hide their army. They’re similar but different. You could say that they are from the same branch of magic, but they are effectively a completely different spell. Or at least that’s what the mages who’ve been studying them currently believe. The term ‘gated illusions’ is just something the mages thought up to describe them.”
Commander Dahl’s expression soured at the thought of another complication they’d have to learn to overcome. “I understand that. But what I’m asking is in what way are they different? Explain, in detail, what these ‘gated illusions’ are.”
The captain squirmed in his chair, finally understanding why his superior had sent him to the meeting instead of coming himself. “Uh, well, we don’t know, sir.” Seeing Commander Dahl’s brow furrowing in anger, he quickly added, “What I mean to say is, the mages don’t yet know how the kobalds are doing it. But they have been able to understand how the illusions work.”
Not wanting to test the commander’s patience, the captain activated the table’s projector to display a memory that would serve as a visual example of what he was saying.
Pointing at the kobalds slipping in and out of the false rock walls, the captain said, “Here you can see the effects of the illusion. The kobalds themselves are not impeded at all, and we believe that they are even capable of seeing through it. Meanwhile, to our soldiers, the construct is just as solid and impenetrable as the stone under their feet. That’s why the mages are referring to it as a ‘gated illusion’. The kobalds who are controlling it only allow for its effects to affect our troops, not their own. It’s a selective illusion, likely working on the principle of phenotypical soul resonance.”
Leaning forward over the table while remaining in his seat, Commander Dahl stared at the memory with an intense look on his face. Without taking his eyes off it, he asked, “Why are we just seeing this type of technique now? Is it a new tactical spell they’ve developed, or something they’ve always been able to do?”
On the other side of the table, one of the tactical officers from the combat analysis teams spoke up, “Either is a possibility, but they likely have always been able to make these illusions. They just haven’t needed to. Their primary battle pattern has up until now relied on their superior numbers. Rarely if ever have we been in the position where our troops outnumbered theirs. We believe that this is merely how they fight when they choose to forgo direct battle and instead rely on unconventional warfare.”
The captain who’d been the one to initially give his report added, “That matches with what the mages have reported. According to them, the gated illusion technique is an active technique rather than a static one. While ritual patterns have been discovered on spell slates after the kobalds have been fought off, careful analysis of those diagrams has proven that the rituals are only intended to make their combined casting more effective, not to create the illusions themselves.”
Commander Dahl nodded in understanding. “So, now that we’ve broken their encampments, they’ve decided to run off into the tunnels and attempt to rely on surprise attacks. They know that they are going to die, and are intending to take as many of our troops as they can along with them… What’s the best counter methodology we’ve discovered so far to deal with them?”
Both the captains attempted to reply at once before the one working as the tower liaison gestured for the combat analyst to go ahead.
“The illusions themselves still remain beyond our understanding, so the teams who’ve been successful in dealing with them have done so by relying on brute force. Since direct essence manipulation was found to be too difficult, several teams discovered that spell constructs work incredibly well at disrupting their internal structure. In many ways, the false stone walls are vulnerable to the same things that real stone walls are. A sufficiently powerful spell has been proven to cause them to break down almost upon contact. The mages believe that’s why the kobald shamans have been using those ritual slates. In a direct competition, our casters are much more powerful than theirs. By combining their efforts, the kobalds ensure that sufficiently powerful mages are required to overcome them. Most of our teams who’ve suffered the worst losses simply hadn’t thought of attempting to attack them directly,” the captain said.
The Tower of Magic’s liaison officer added, “We’ve already distributed the counter strategy to all teams still within the range of the Battle Hub. The enemy technique won’t remain as much of a problem for much longer.”
Releasing some tension from his shoulders at hearing the good news, Commander Dahl folded his hands and asked, “What are the updated timeline estimates for clearing out the entire upper city?”
The combat analyst confidently replied, “30 hours. 45 at the latest.”
“With the kobalds no longer able to hide, the sweeper teams have been clearing them out as fast as they can,” the liaison officer added.
Deciding to end the meeting, Commander Dahl stood up from his seat and said, “Good. We need to get those troops back to the fighting line in the under city. The faster we can get this wrapped up, the faster we can get this war back on track.”
Turning his head to address the liaison officer he added, “And be sure to have those mages figure out how this new form of illusion actually works. It could be a valuable addition to our city's combat doctrine.”
Both the combat analyst and the liaison officer stood up and offered a short bow before returning to their duty. Watching them leave, Commander Dahl returned his attention to the memory still playing over the center of the table.
Placing his hands down and leaning over to take a closer look, he muttered to himself quietly, “What other surprises do you little monsters have for us…”
—--
While the battle in the cavern was finally beginning to wind down, Nero spent his time chatting with William. Or more accurately listening to William chatting at him.
Compared to the more intelligent and put-together people he’d recently been spending his time with, Nero found William’s personality refreshing. Even people like Merrick and the few other Wackos he’d come across weren’t nearly this mentally ‘simple’. William’s nonsensical and rambling conversation reminded Nero of the times he spent wasting his afternoons in his store’s breakroom back on Earth. Despite being a manager, and nominally the person in charge, he’d wasted hours listening to the tall tales and creative interpretations of events his coworkers used to tell each other.
Through his ability to monitor William's essence field, he was able to believe maybe half of what he was hearing. And that was being generous. However, the conservation did serve to be relatively eye-opening in regards to how the nobility really functioned. Not how it ‘supposedly’ functioned, but how it ‘actually’ functioned.
Between the constant stories and natterings that William went on about, Nero was able to piece together a picture of how the upper crust of society truly worked in Dorchester. He’d had the general structure explained to him by Vera and Nick before, but he’d not quite believed the rosy picture they had painted. It just hadn’t seemed possible for a society to actually develop into the logical and community-serving metropolis that it supposedly had. Yet, hearing William explaining the internal politics of his house, Nero had to admit that a lot of what he doubted was indeed how things worked around here.
William’s father was currently the head of House Lowe, and had been serving in that capacity for over a hundred years. The man had multiple consorts and concubines, each with their own lives and careers, only aligning themselves with him and his house for personal benefits like it was a perfectly acceptable business arrangement. Lord Lowe’s wife even had paramours of her own, having birthed three children who were currently competing on the House’s ladder for the position of primary heir.
When Nero expressed his confusion about the arrangement, William had seemingly gone out of his way to misinterpret what Nero had been asking. Instead of accepting that Nero was having a hard time with the idea of out-of-wedlock children vying for control of the family, William had wrongfully assumed that Nero was questioning his genetically unrelated brother’s and sister’s merits. Because, apparently, that was really the only thing that mattered to him or anyone else.
William had excitedly said, “Oh, they’re all better than you’d expect. One of them, Merriam - she was actually sired by Lord Parkinson. I remember how hard it was to acquire her rights of allegiance before she was born. Lord Parkinson had wanted her to have the opportunity to choose which house she’d serve when she’d awakened, but my father had managed to convince Lady Lowe to put her foot down. It was quite a scandal at the time. Lord Parkinson nearly took our house to tribunal over the matter, claiming that the temporary union agreement had been violated…. Wait… what were you asking? Oh, right, you wanted to know whether or not Lady Lowe’s children were worthy of the House’s ladder. The point I was trying to make was that they are. They’re all truly exceptional… except for Darren… that boy’s an idiot. But, we don’t talk about him. He’ll likely be sent off to the army or something. Hopefully, he’ll manage to get himself killed before he embarrasses us. Seriously, nobody in their right mind would allow him to represent the family. Not that I still have any allegiance to them. I’m fully committed to House Walker now, you can be sure of that, my lord. I mean, sir.”
It was amazing to Nero to hear how noble houses in Dorchester didn’t care a whit about anything other than competence. Personal relationships were secondary to potential. And there was an undercurrent of dedication to the house that transcended everything. Even the lords in charge of the house were merely seen as placeholders, like it was an honor to serve in the position and not a benefit that they could exploit for personal gain.
Hearing William explain his background served as the perfect vehicle for Nero to understand the local mindset better than any lecture Nick or Vera had ever given.
His mother had been, and still was, a successful seamstress. To this day, her family owns and operates multiple clothing stores across the city. She’d met his father at some function and immediately hit it off with him. According to William, the two of them had then either agreed to a concubine contract to formalize their relationship, allowing House Lowe to acquire a discount on uniforms which were then made by his mother’s family…or so that they could legally sleep with each other. Interestingly, although he didn’t come right out and say it, William himself didn’t seem to know or care which was a more accurate description of their relationship.
In any event, William, as their progeny, had been deemed not talented enough for the ladder, and it had been decided before he was even 10 years old that he needed to find something else to do with his life. His mother, who apparently loved him but didn’t believe in him, had urged him to try his hand at magic, hoping he’d find a place one day as a mid-level mage in the Tower of Magic. The poor guy had spent his entire life believing he was a failure before he’d even had a chance to succeed.
The longer Nero listened to him, the more he could hear what William wasn’t saying. The young man clearly held great pride at being associated with House Lowe, even if he received absolutely no benefits from the arrangement. To him, it was his lack of ability that earned him his place in the world and not the failing of the family for not providing him any advantages. According to what William wasn’t saying, the very idea of a noble house interfering and propping up a weaker member was not something anyone in a position of power would even consider.
Nero, while trying to wrap his head around a system of nobility entirely based on merit, along with how houses could be run like elite baby factories, asked William, “So, how did you end up joining up with House Walker? Weren’t you planning on eventually trying to go back to school or something? I’m pretty sure at some point you mentioned that.”
William, having taken a seat right down on the cavern floor alongside Nero, replied, “Yes, my … sir. That was the plan. But you know how it is. Things happen.”
Nero waited patiently for William to collect his thoughts, watching him stare off toward the few still active pockets of fighting. He could tell by the young man’s essence field that William was getting ready to drop his metaphorical mask and would likely begin dropping some truth bombs.
“For the past few years, I’ve been working with some of the disavowed heirs of the nobility. We’ve made a bit of a name for ourselves as shield mages protecting caravans through the Merchant Hall. As I’m sure you know, not every merchant caravan has a private military force backing them. A lot of the smaller companies who ferry in the food and supplies from the outer towns and villages are under contract from the nobles. They need guards and shield mages only two or three times a year. So, my friends and I figured it would be a good way to earn some money and experience until we found something more productive to do. And, like I said, time passed quicker than I thought it would. What had started as a way to make some money became a career… if you could call it that,” he said sadly.
Nero could see it in his eyes, William was ashamed of having accepted such an ordinary and boring job. Whether the young man admitted it or not, he wished for something more. Maybe because of his father, or his half-siblings, or maybe because he wanted to prove his mother wrong… whatever the reason, William was unhappy with his lot in life.
Nero could empathize with the emotions rolling off the young man’s essence field. He’d seen this type of thing before.
It was a cliched and recognizable story. William was just like countless other college dropouts and minimum-wage workers he’d worked with back on Earth. Life hadn’t turned out how he’d thought it would and didn’t know what to do about it. Nero could hear it in the somber and defeated tone of his voice, he’d just been going through the motions… letting his life pass him by.
Turning away from the battle, along with the memories, William looked back toward Nero. From his seated position, he had to look up a little to meet Nero’s eyeline since Nero had once again chosen to sit on his favorite stump.
“It was right after we found out that there were no contracts available due to the density shift… that’s when I saw your speech on the Thought Hub. One of the attendants had posted it on their personal feed. You remember? It was the one where you explained what an adventurer was. Well, one of them, anyway… You talk about being an adventurer a lot.” William said with a chuckle.
Clenching his fists over the knees of his crossed legs, William said, “All of us watched it. But I think I was the only one who understood it. The others, my friends I mean, they didn’t get it. Don’t get me wrong, they admired your bravery, and everything you’ve done for the city. But they didn’t understand. You weren’t just talking about seeking out new experiences for growth, you were talking about a dedication to improve.”
Nero was feeling a little uncomfortable with the intensity of William's gaze, so he tried to lighten the mood by asking, “So, you liked what you heard and decided to just pack your bags and join up? That takes guts… either that or an appalling disregard for your personal safety.”
Nodding in agreement as if Nero hadn’t been joking, William continued, “I felt it in my center. I shouldn’t concern myself with what anybody else thinks of me. I’m my own person. My responsibility is to be the best ‘me’ I can be. I want to help the city, the kingdom, and the world. But I’m not going to do it for anyone else other than me. It’s my choice, and I choose to follow you. When you leave Dorchester, I’m going with you. Wherever you go, I will follow. Doing so will not only repay you for your guidance but will allow me to rise higher than I ever could on my own.”
Coughing lightly into his hand to make an attempt at disrupting the serious mood, Nero replied with what he hoped looked like a sincere smile, “Well, I thank you for your service. I’m sure you’ll go as far as you’re willing to believe that you can.”
William’s expression morphed into a creepy smile right in front of Nero’s eyes. Not knowing what the young man was thinking, Nero chose to err on the side of caution and began reinforcing his mage armor in case the crazy bastard decided to try and hug him or something.
Hopping up from the ground, William nearly shouted, “Yes! That’s what I meant! I need to believe in myself! Believe that I can be better! Thank you, my lord!”
Feeling the overwhelming sense of confidence and desire for self-improvement coming off William’s essence field, Nero couldn’t help but feel his own emotions stirring. Just like William, he recognized that he needed to keep pushing forward. Even with how weird and confusing this world was, he needed to remember not to allow himself to slow down. He needed to roll with whatever he came across like an SUV in a car commercial ignoring whatever dumbass shit the producers decided to put in front of it. So what if the world refused to make sense. It was magic… magic’s not supposed to make sense. So what if his inner world looked like it was designed by an overly spiritual college freshman trying to imitate every cliche he’d ever read on Webnovel. So what if his brain was beginning to multiply… OK, that last one might end up being a problem. But, regardless, he’d figure it out. He was Nero fucking Walker, and he could handle it.
Hopping up from his stump, he mentally returned it to his personal space like it had become a reflex. Returning a smile just as wide as William’s was right back at him, Nero said, “No problem, glad you got something out of my ramblings. One day, I’ll make a cat poster with ‘Believe in Yourself’ in big ass letters so everyone can understand what I was trying to say. I’ll make millions, and maybe even do some good in the world. Win-win for everybody!”
William’s smile immediately turned into an expression of confusion. “Uh… cat posters, my lord?”
Letting his smile fade into an utterly serious expression in return. “Yes, absolutely cat posters. You get it,” replied confidently.
*Chapter Title: The grass is always greener.
*Spoiler: You never really realize who you are until you sit down and find out who someone else is. Our brains work by association. It's just how they categorize things. It's impossible to know what a lot of food is until you first define what a little food means to you. It's also why everything in the world is both subjective and objective. But, one of the reasons teenagers act the way they do is because they're at the age where they begin comparing and contrasting who they are with the people around them. People think they stop doing that kind of stuff as they get older, but they don't. Instead, they just end up acquiring more and more information to compare and contrast with their self-image until an average 'identity' is completed. I remember reading a book on it once, but the details faded with time. The big takeaway I had when I'd read it was that the probable reason I had such strong feelings of hate for rocky road ice cream was due to my feeling about a kid who'd stolen my seat in class next to the cool kids. He liked it, he sucked, so it did to. Likely not the philosophical revelation the author had intended, but it did allow me to give the desert a second chance. I still think it's over rated though. Just sayin'.
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Heather Serra
Tyftc!
