Vraxious—Hope's Path

  Vrax let go of Belial’s hand in distaste and turned back towards the table, glowering left and right at the rather stunned selection of some of the most influential or individually powerful people on the fucking continent. Holy fuck…keep bluffing; they can’t see your goddamned level, Vrax! He eyed a potted plant in the corner, wondering if it would be enough to summon Duchess to save his ass if this went wrong.

  Vrax hid a deep breath under his helm and addressed the table while a stammering Belial awkwardly made his way out of the room, not sure if he should be insulted or afraid. “So, I don’t really do politics…My kingdom is in the actual Forsaken Lands, and we don’t want anyone who is just going to be feeding the local wildlife and complaining that the inn tried to eat them.” That got some confused grumbles and whispers across the table. Dorn had leaned back in his chair, looking happier than Vrax had ever seen him at most of his peers' general discomfort.

  “Questions? ” Vrax joked, although the malevolence his armor added to his words yet again undercut his attempt at comedy.

  The jade-armored warrior who was fighting with his ex-wife earlier cautiously spoke up. “So...my liege, what can we expect…for a recruiting pool?”

  Vrax shrugged. “People who can survive a week’s trek through the forsaken lands—beyond that, I’d expect them to primarily be combat classes. The adventurers guild will be shortly setting up a branch, and they expect merchant caravans to become somewhat common,” Vrax said flatly. That got some murmurs; people could practically smell the gold to be made guarding increased trade in that region even with as deadly as it would be.

  “But like I said, I don’t really do politics… So let's just sort out some chaff, you three! ” Vrax pointed at the tax-obsessed accountants Dorn was arguing with. One gestured at himself in pleased surprise, misunderstanding the hell out of Vrax’s intent. “Yes, you and the other two that look like a brothel dressed you; you should leave.” Vrax ignored their protests and looked over the increasingly uncomfortable knights. He wasn’t sure how this kind of meeting normally went, but this certainly wasn’t it.

  Dorn caught his eye and nodded subtly towards a quiet figure sitting slightly out of the way in neat white robes under a well-kempt plain metal armor. It took Vrax a moment, but he finally noticed the small bowing man symbols neatly stamped into his sword sheath. “Ahh, that should definitely be the next one! Who here is a fan of Rembrand!” Vrax said in his best cheerful voice.

  A few people at the table noticeably brightened falling for the world’s most obvious trap if you had any idea who the fuck Vrax was. Vrax nodded amicably and gestured upwards. “Come now, stand up and be counted, allies of the Church of Order! ” The man in white robes practically leapt to his feet, beaming a smile like he had already won. Rogar facepalmed with a chuckle as the foppish man with a wide-brimmed hat cautiously stood up.

  The white armored knight bowed respectfully towards Vrax. “King Vrax, might I ask the nature of your relationship with the most holy Church of Order?” He probed, obviously looking for common ground.

  Vrax picked up a flower arrangement from the center of the table Adapting it before he spoke. First the red flowers grew, then overflowed from the vase as petals and leaves meshed into bulbous hooked tentacles, and the flower itself folded inwards like it was consuming itself over and over. Every eye in the room was drawn to the horrific birth of a monster.

  The flower's flesh roiled as eyes ripped from the new tentacles with sharp pops, training themselves on whoever was nearest. Then, with one last surge of green light, an uneven gnashing maw ripped open along the stalk of the flower and down one of the tentacles.

  Dorn was looking on in slack-jawed surprise. The deadly man in a chameleonic cloak had nearly leaned over the table in excitement. The foppish man cursed quietly, realizing exactly who Vrax was and what his relationship with the church was.

  Vrax stepped over to the white-robed knight and offered him the bouquet. He recoiled as it reached towards him, saliva dripping hungrily from the mouth and its eyes all excitedly quivering as it got closer.

  [Mana 30/204] Ha, holy shit, adapting that fast cost me a lot of mana. So, so worth it for the sheer shock value.

  “I think it likes you! ” Vrax said and set it back down on the table, where it slowly began crawling towards the white-robed man. He looked between Vrax and it in confusion, hand drawing towards his sword. “To answer your question, currently we are having a little spat. They want my lands, my home, everything they can get their grubby mitts on. And well, as you can see, my creations are rather fond of those who support them.”

  The bouquet flung itself at the knight and he stepped back quickly, his sword flashing so fast Vrax didn’t even see the blow land simply the two halves of his bouquet on the ground still quivering as they began dragging themselves towards the knight again. The knight kept his sword in hand as he carefully circled away from Vrax and the hungry plant.

  “Yes, it’s probably best if you leave…you as well, Mr. Silver Spoon in the wide-brimmed hat.” Both of them didn’t even argue, simply exiting quickly with their guards. The tension was palpable as they practically fled, weapon still in the hand of the white-robed knight. The room was starting to get rather barren.

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  Vrax chuckled. “Hey Dorn, anyone else that you just don’t particularly like? ” The Abyssal guard knight Commander finally stood up and looked around the room. “Rogar should bathe more, but everyone else here at least knows how to fight,” Rogar grumbled and actually threw an empty cup at Dorn. The cup stopped inches from his face after hitting a dull red haze, and Dorn let out a gruff chuckle.

  The jade warrior raised his hand again “So are you seriously the fucking Forsaken Paladin…” He stopped for a second realizing how rude that was “Respectfully of course..” he added.

  “Yep! ” Vrax said, sitting back at the table finally and dismissing his helmet so he could finally get a drink of wine. “Hey Edward! Do you want to join the table and get a beer or something? ”

  Edward curiously poked his head out of the alcove, still playing, and nodded. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that slight…intensity the song gained for a little bit there,” Vrax added. Edward smiled sheepishly and pulled up a chair at the head of the table, taking a sip of wine himself before beginning a verbose, triumphant song.

  “So who wants in? I can promise incomparably dangerous training areas and unfettered access to some of the rarest crafting ingredients on the planet. Oh. And you have to be okay with a little exhibition match I arranged at the Dragons Maw.” The jade-armored warrior stood.

  “I wish to respectfully decline; I do not think my order would be a good fit. I wish you the best, however, and if you ever need the aid of skilled mariners, consider hiring the Coral Ungent.”

  Rogar piped up, “Fuck off, he’s got my scum for naval battles; we’re in. The Forsaken Lands are great for jungle training…our missions always fucking lead to some assault on a pirate base on a godforsaken jungle island, every…fucking…time,” he said bitterly.

  Slowly people started exchanging scattered comments and apologies before filing out of the room. The ones that stayed in the end didn’t even surprise Vrax. He had sent off the money-grubbing sycophants. And most of the more middle-of-the-road candidates who just wanted recruiting grounds were out. That left the crazy fucks. Dorn, Rogar, Edith, and whoever the scary fucker in the invisibility cloak was.

  Edith finally spoke up after remaining quiet the whole time. “So? Joint recruitment college? ”

  “Looks that way…” Dorn looked towards the cloaked man. “Sul you onboard for sending some Stalkers to a weird hybrid school stuck in the middle of the Forsaken lands?”

  The man's voice was surprisingly velvety; it had an almost ethereal quality, like he was barely even there. “Absolutely…I can’t think of a much better way to test those who want to advance to real Rangers than them simply surviving the trek to whatever this school ends up being.”

  Vrax sipped a hearty serving of the predictably exquisite wine. “As utterly badass as you look, uhh, which knight order are you in charge of?” ”

  Sul raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You really are new to all this.” He laughed softly. “The Deep Stalkers, we focus mostly on rooting out criminals in inhospitable terrain and guerrilla warfare. We are barely considered a ‘knight order.’ Also, I think we might be the only order in the damn country that does regularly make forays into the forsaken lands with our higher-tier members. Honestly, it's a bit astounding how often criminals try and hide there; usually it's just body retrieval at that point. But that happens far north of your neck of the woods, and we try and keep quiet about it.” Vrax nodded along with his explanation.

  This is a damn good selection of warriors. The actual guards to what might as well be a gate to one of the hells. Pirate hunters who launch from a frozen coastline in the north. A spellsword-focused school that would bring a probably needed tempering presence. And apparently Forest assassins? I'm more than a bit scared that I've never even heard of the deep stalkers, but that might honestly just mean they are damned good at what they do.

  “Okay! Everyone who's on board, get a final drink! I arranged an exhibition match at the Dragon's Maw. The church of Rembrand was more than happy to agree to a friendly skirmish between an unknown new king and his chosen knights….” Vrax let that sink in for a second before Rogar started laughing manically.

  “Oh! Oh Gods, you’re an asshole! ” Rogar tried to take another slug of ale but choked himself; he was laughing so hard.

  Edith calmly added, “Is that wise? ”

  “Not particularly, but I can’t think of a much better way to check that you are really onboard in the way I need than being willing to give them a very public political black eye. I intend to beat the fucking brakes off of them.” Vrax had come up with this idea nearly a month ago; any order who refused to fight them in the maw would certainly balk at fighting them in his capital if they attacked.

  Dorn had a wicked look on his face now. “When and what are the rules?”

  “Well…in about an hour…I may have implied in the letter that it would happen while we were in the meeting, and I wanted to meet with them afterwards for diplomatic endeavors. I couldn’t think of any other way to do it without them finding out beforehand. There is no way some of their sycophants won’t be telling them about the uncouth brute of a new king the first chance they get,” Vrax said and finished his wine.

  Sul nodded. “Not a bad idea. Even if they find out right now, it’s too late for them to back out without looking like utter cowards to everyone.”

  “Rules? ” Dorn pulled the conversation back.

  “Ah yeah, level fifty and under, no holds barred. One champion of any level per side. It's supposed to be an exhibition between promising members led by an elite that can show off the power of each group. I’m expecting them to put in a near level one-hundred paladin.”

  “I have a good candidate that’s in town,” Edith said softly.

  “I have a mean motherfucker who I can go sober up real quick,” Rogal added.

  Dorn and Sul nodded at that statement.

  “Great, let’s get going. I’ll meet everyone in my VIP room in the dragon’s maw! I look forward to working with you all,” Vrax said and gestured towards Edward. “Hey Edward, do you want a job? ”

  Edward’s tune faltered for a moment. “My lord, is that even a question? Of course…I might need to, well…improve my combat capabilities if I am to survive the trip to your kingdom, however.”

  Vrax smiled. “I really wouldn’t worry about that too much. I think you are literally Duchess’s favorite person now since your fear trick in the tavern fight. I really would honestly pity most things that went after you if she's around.”

  “Ahh...swell...” Edward said with a grimace. He was still very unnerved around the duchess, and Vrax couldn’t blame him in the slightest.

  Alright, to the Dragon's Maw to make a scene! And level up, dear gods, I'm leveling up before the match. I mayyy have left out the part where I’m going to fight personally. If my estimations of how much essence I have are correct, this level up will take me to my second trial and evolve at least one of my skills. It's probably time for me to adapt Duchess a bit more too...if I have enough mana…