Chapter 595: Chapter 595

Phew. Okay, so… I know this is a very dramatic situation, with the exploded stained-glass window and the startled guests and the allegedly-vampire lady floating above us with her billowing black dress and wings and everything, but I just couldn't help it. Doing so would've been going against my core values and everything that made me, well… me.

As such, as much as it might've been inappropriate and pedantic and maybe even a bit petty, but I just had to ask: Why. A. Bloody. Scythe. Of. All. Things?!

Okay, let's keep calm. Take a step back, and a deep breath, and look at this logically. Scythes look impressive. Cool, even. Not to mention, it has all the imagery related to the grim reaper and whatnot going for them as well, but even so… that's not a weapon. That's a farming implement.

Sure, it was better than nothing, and I've heard that peasant levies used them in wars in the Middle Ages (though those had the blades modified to point forward, so they were effectively just big, clumsy spears), but look at that thing! It was bigger than her! And what the heck was up with the curve of that blade? And those jagged edges? And, and…

Scythes were already pretty damn unwieldy by default, because the edge points inwards, so one had to effectively pull their opponents towards themselves to cut them, but then those spikes and crap would've made that even harder! And it was enormous! Sure, it was probably magical, or made of magic, seeing that she conjured it out of thin air, so maybe it was lighter than it looked, but bloody hell! Even I would've found it hard to swing that thing, and I was almost two heads taller than her!

Not that I would ever be caught dead doing something like that. I mean, if it was an absolute life-or-death situation, I might consider using one to defend myself, but if it was only mildly dangerous… Eh, I probably wouldn't risk losing an eye over it, but anything less than that, and that scythe could go rot in a gutter for all I cared.

Anyhow, rant over. It felt nice to let out some steam like that, but there were more important things requiring my attention. Such as the whole 'the matriarch of another Noble House burst through the window screaming bloody murder' thing. Or betrayal. Not much of a difference here.

"Ah, Fidèle! I didn't expect you'd get here so soon!" the head of House Nergal called out amidst the falling glass shards, acting like there was nothing out of the ordinary. His smile was inscrutable under his goatee, but despite his laidback reaction, the way his eyes shook told me he wasn't expecting something . Despite that, he kept up the act and made an elegant welcoming gesture towards the winged woman looming over us. "Nevertheless, allow me to extend a warm welcome to—"

She didn't wait for him to finish and descended upon him like a black and white comet, her scythe flashing red for a blink of an eye before impact. There was a crash and a tremor and some more magical flashes, and before you could spell 'sesquipedalophobia', she gracefully landed next to me and brandished her scythe, and… Bloody hell, it looked even worse up close, and…

(No, Leo! Stop it! You already got it out of your system, so just ignore it!)

After scolding myself like that, I exhaled hard and glanced a bit to the left, where Belette Nergal was dusting off some debris from his shoulder with a cocky smirk on his face. Despite his outward attitude, he must've felt threatened, because he shifted into his Abyssal form, and it was quite a peculiar one.

For a start, most of his outfit was gone, and he grew a solid head taller. Or maybe it was just the two large bull horns jutting out of his head. On the same note, his legs changed as well, and they now ended in a pair of huge hooves. In contrast, his bare upper body had long, shaggy dark fur, especially around his neck and chest, reminding me of a lion's mane. Overall, it was a form that was closer to Crowy's than Snowy's, and while I already knew that these transformations were as influenced by self-image as they were by lineage, I couldn't help but find it intriguing all the same.

Oh, and on a side note: while most of his clothes were gone, due to the way Abyssal and Celestial Barriers worked, his pants over the knee remained mostly intact. I was pretty sure that was a trope, but based on the already established metaphysics of these things, it shouldn't have worked. Maybe I should ask The Man about it the next time we meet, I pondered as I continued to listen.

"Lady Shamash, please put away your weapon and listen." Tracas stepped forward with his arms held out, as if he was physically trying to get between the two Lords, all the while still hiding behind Belette.

This was the first time I'd seen him in his Abyssal form, and maybe because his House was closer to Celestials, but he had a considerably less monstrous appearance. In fact, aside from the feathered black wings on his back and the smooth, curved horns on his head, he looked the same as usual, and since he wasn't directly hit by anyone, his clothes weren't completely shredded by his Barrier and were only a bit tattered.

"Silence, traitor!" the incensed woman on my side hissed at him and twirled her scythe over her head, then threateningly jabbed it towards the direction of the bullish man.

Except she was pointing at him with the blunt side of the blade, which was specifically the part that wasn't particularly threatening, so…

"Since when?" Her follow-up question jolted me out of my thoughts before I could start on another tangent. She also focused past Belette, her thundering eyes fully locked onto the black winged man and, to a lesser degree, the woman behind him. "Since when were you colluding with House Inanna? Were you in their service all along?"

"Please, don't jump to conclusions," the Ashur noble pleaded, while the head of House Nergal continued to feign civility while theatrically rubbing his wrists, as if he just finished a workout routine.

"I recommend that you try and listen to him first. You may just learn something interesting today."

Her glare turned even more cutting, but then she addressed me next, without taking his eyes off those three for a second.

"Listen, Lord Leonard. I don't know the full extent of their betrayal, but we need to leave. The way they attempted to surround you with young Seducers implies their goal was to distract you while they completed the seal around this building to trap you inside. I suspect Bel of the Abyss and his herald are already on their way here."

"Well, that's a peculiar plan," I grumbled under my breath, but then the whole sentence registered and my eyes were automatically drawn to the group that was pestering me until just a minute ago. "Wait. Are they all Seducers?"

"… You haven't noticed?"

"I'm mostly immune to their tricks, so no, I haven't."

Even while saying so, I couldn't help but wonder where they found so many of them. Weren't Seducers supposed to be extremely rare? Did House Nergal just naturally have more of them due to some quirk of their bloodline? Or maybe they 'borrowed' all the Seducers they could for this plan, meaning the other Noble Houses were also in on the plan. I wasn't entirely clear on that last bit, because future-me was keeping the details of his side of the plan under wraps even at this stage, meaning I still wasn't one hundred percent sure just how many unwitting stage hands we had in this performance.

"Is that so? Such wasted effort…" Belette Nergal responded to my previous words with a disinterested shrug, then took a step to the side to let Tracas take center stage. Reluctantly, if I may add, but he did so all the same.

"Before anything else, let us disperse the misunderstandings between us. First and foremost, I have to confess that I've been cooperating with the Lord of Inanna indeed, but I assure you that it was with the best of intentions."

I could practically hear the Shamash matriarch's teeth groan from gritting them so hard, so I put a hand on her shoulder before she could argue with him. That startled her a bit, though it was nothing compared to the words with which I followed up the gesture.

"Let him finish. I'm curious about how he'll try to justify this."

The Lord of Nergal flashed a grin that showed off his pointy canines and said, "A most wise course of action, Lord Archon Dun—"

"On the other hand, use that ridiculous way to address me again, and we're leaving."

My sharp response made him bite back the end of the sentence, and while his mouth was still set in an amicable smile, his eyes told a different story.

More importantly, Tracas looked a bit hesitant, as if he was simultaneously self-conscious and yet champing at the bit to reveal his ploy. He was our side-villain for the day, after all, meaning it was common courtesy to let him monologue a bit. I gestured for him to get on with it, and he eventually crossed his arms in a pose that was trying to exude confidence.

"While on the surface, I admit that it must appear that I have colluded with the enemy and sold you out, you should be well aware that politics are rarely so simple." He paused and unfolded one of his arms, his hand raised like he was holding an invisible goblet. "This war was a mistake. It is terrible for business, and no matter which side triumphs in the end, the power balance between the Noble Houses will be irrevocably broken. As such, it's in everyone's best interest to end the hostilities and keep the waste of time, manpower, and assets to a minimum. I believe we can all agree on this point?"

That wasn't aimed at us, but at the whole hall, and there were sounds of sycophantic accord coming from all around, which made me realise one more thing: despite Fidèle's dynamic entry, all the guests were still around. Not just that, but the guards were doing their jobs and trying to form a protective wall to separate us from them. Of course, getting them out of the crossfire would've been more logical, but we needed an audience, so this worked out fine too. Google seaʀᴄh NovєlFіre.net

Anyhow, once he was satisfied with the amount of audible agreement coming his way, the winged Abyssal man crossed his arms again and exhaled a low hum.

"Certainly, receiving aid from the outside world helps to alleviate the short-term economic concerns of the Noble Alliance, but we all understand that it's as much as the Lord Dunning and his Draconic Federation can provide us. Without military support, the brunt of the fighting will continue to fall upon our shoulders, a state of affairs that I found less than acceptable. Of course, there's one major military asset that could easily turn the tide of this war." He suddenly pointed at me. Not in a casual way, but more like how a spiky-haired attorney would do so while shouting 'Objection!' from the top of his lungs. "Lord Dunning, the only peer of the Emperor, and the only man the Lord of Inanna is wary of."

"So you deceived me, and the rest of the Noble Alliance, just to force Lord Dunning into direct conflict with them?" the Shamas matriarch hissed, her voice audibly trembling with barely contained rage.

"Precisely. It was the only reasonable solution to our conundrum." This time, Tracas Ashur spread his arms wide, as if trying to show off his tattered suit. "Now, there are only three possible outcomes left. Either Lord Dunning defeats the Emperor and his Herald, putting an end to this war with it, or his defeat spurs the forces of the surface to commit their military might to our cause. Either way, the victory of the Noble alliance would be secured." He paused and levelled a calm gaze at me. "Alternatively, on the off-chance that you both fail and the forces of the surface still refuse to leverage their power, it would be a clear sign that the war is unwinnable, and it would open up the avenues for a peace treaty." He faced the Shamash matriarch next, and he somehow looked more nervous than when he was talking to me. Probably because I didn't have a weapon in hand. "Do you understand now? This is the optimal solution for the good of all!"

His words were followed by a long beat of silence, and despite her posture being clearly uncomfortable, Fidèle didn't let her weapon down, and instead cooly stated, "And it also seems to be one where you would benefit, no matter the outcome. Tell me, Tracas; did the Lord of Inanna promise you House Ashur in return for your betrayal? Or was it just the head of the heir? In either case, no matter who arises triumphant at the end, you will remain a traitor…" Her words trailed off, and she glanced at the big, furry Abyssal idling by Tracas's side. "Was it you, Belette? Is this another one of your games?"

"I have no idea what you could possibly mean by that, Fidèle," the Lord of Nergal responded with a knowing smirk, and I couldn't help but notice that he was glancing at the main entrance again.

She gritted her teeth again, but instead of snapping at him, she glanced over her shoulder and spoke to me.

"Are you satisfied now, Lord Leonard?"

"More or less." I paused long enough to nod in the direction of the two transformed Abyssal men, and added, "As far as justifications for nefarious plans go, I give it a seven. Decent hustle, but the self-righteous angle was a bit trite."

She didn't comment on my laidback tone, but instead shifted her posture and held the blade of her scythe low, like a farmer just getting ready to cut down some grass.

"In that case, I recommend we break out of this trap now and bring news of this betrayal to the rest of the Noble Alliance, before our enemies arrive."

"Oh, Fidèle," the Nergal patriarch cut in with a shake of his head. "You're still laboring under two major misunderstandings."

For emphasis, or maybe just to look cool, he raised one hairy arm over his head, and as he did so, all the broken stained-glass shards and metal scaffoldings began to rise into the air and rapidly reassemble themselves into the shattered rose window.

"You see, you were already too late the moment you showed your face. The entire building is already completely enclosed by multiple layers of wards. I'm afraid you'll find that breaking out of here is going to pose a much greater challenge than breaking in."

"Oh, classy," I noted absently, followed by a provocative jerk of my head. "Okay, I bite. What's the second one?"

Not bothered by my interjection at all, Belette waited for the window to fully restore itself before making a light clap and gesturing towards the large doors at the other end of the hall.

"It's the fact that the Emperor and his Herald are already here."

That was the cue, and the last syllable barely left his mouth by the time the aforementioned doors were violently swung open, and in walked Crowy, his eyes aglow with purple light while his similarly tinted hair and black cape kept billowing behind him with every step. His mere presence filled the hall with an oppressing pressure, no doubt because of all the mana he was dumping into the air, and the guests and guards retreated as far to the back of the chamber as possible.

"Great show! I love it!" There was future-me, in his full Bel getup, casually wandering in with a large paper bag in hand. Our eyes met, and he cheerfully yelled, "Polemos, dearest of all my enemies! You should've told me you're coming over; I would've cleared up the place beforehand!" He then inclined the bag towards me, revealing its content. "Popcorn?"

Shaking my head, I reached into my breast pocket and took a swig of my emergency tea flask instead, much to everyone's utter (and reasonable) bafflement before I put it away and, with the same motion, retrieved Teeny from my storage enchantment.

All the actors were here, all the props were in place, we had an audience, and my mouth was no longer dry. In other words, everything was in place. Act two, here we go.