Paragon of Destruction

It took Brightblade some moments to stifle her laughter, after which she shot the mage a broad grin. "My other student will be most grateful for your efforts in protecting his chastity," she said, voice still trembling with barely suppressed mirth.

Arran, for his part, gave the mage an annoyed scowl.

It wasn’t that he had hoped to have a mansion filled with nubile female servants. The thought had barely even crossed his mind. Perhaps it held a certain appeal, but it wasn’t something he had expected to happen — not seriously, at any rate.

What irked him was that the mage had thought such unusual measures necessary. As if he was some lecher who would forget all about his training the moment he saw a pretty face.

Not that he would mind having a few pretty faces around, of course. And how much of a distraction could a few friendly maids be, really?

"I’ll be taking my leave," Brightblade interrupted his musings. "Ghostblade, remember what I told you tonight. We’ll see each other again soon. Until then, I’ll leave you in the capable hands of your new housekeepers."

With that, she headed out the door, still snickering as she left the mansion.

"I’ll take my leave as well," the mage announced. "Before I go, here’s your monthly allowance of Essence Crystals."

He handed Arran a small void bag, and Arran’s heart nearly skipped a beat when he inspected its contents. There were close to a thousand Essence Crystals within the bag — a fortune that would shock even Grandmasters.

Seeing Arran’s startled expression, the mage explained, "The Lady Matriarch intends for your progress to be rapid. There are diminishing returns in using such amounts of Essence Crystals, but she believes the gains to be worth the cost."

His tone suggested he disagreed with the Matriarch, though he did not say so outright.

Naturally, Arran did not question the Matriarch’s command either. While he thought the gift an obscene waste of resources, he would gladly accept any help he could get. And if the crystals would be better spent aiding the progress of a few hundred novices, that was no concern of his.

"The Lady Matriarch expects you at dawn," the mage said, already turning around to leave. "Don’t be late." He stepped through the doorway a moment later, leaving Arran behind with a large group of guards and servants.

Briefly, he found himself at a loss. Not only didn’t he know any of these men, he didn’t even know what he was supposed to have them do. Yet they looked at him with expectant eyes, as if they were expecting orders.

Luckily, the awkward silence lasted only a moment, as one of the men stepped forward. Burly and bald, with a wicked scar along the side of his jaw, he looked more like a brigand than a mage or servant.

"Name’s Jovan," the man said with a stiff bow. "I’m your new steward."

Arran felt a sense of familiarity at the man’s accent. "Ghostblade," he replied. "You from the Empire as well?"

"Aye," the bald man said, his expression instantly warming up. "Used to be a caravan guard, before I joined the Valley. Most of us here are imperials, though there’s a few borderlanders as well."

"You’re mages?" Arran asked. Though they didn’t look the part, he could Sense a faint trace of Essence on several of the men.

"That we are," Jovan confirmed. "I’m an adept, and so are your guards. The rest’s an even mix of initiates and novices."

Arran frowned briefly. "Then you’re with the House of Seals?" he asked, unsure of whether the House would have its own members become servants.

At this, the man let out a sharp laugh. When he saw Arran’s puzzled expression, he explained, "Valley folk don’t easily accept outsiders. They’ll allow just about anyone to become initiates, but when it comes to joining their precious Houses..." He shook his head.

Now, Arran began to understand the situation. "That’s why you’re working as servants?"

"Just so," Jovan replied. "Hard as hell to progress when all you got are the crystals you make yourself. Doesn’t help either that the teachers charge an arm and a leg just for training."

Although he felt a touch of anger at how these men were treated by the Valley, Arran kept it in check. There was an opportunity here, he realized.

"What are you getting paid?"

"Four crystals a month for me and the other adepts," the burly man answered. "Novices get two, and initiates get one. The pay is decent enough, all considered."

Arran frowned as he looked around at the men standing in front of him.

Then, raising his voice, he spoke. "I’ll add double what you’re getting right now, for each of you. There’s just one condition: you’ll be working for me. Not the mage who recruited you, not the House of Seals, and not the Matriarch — just me. Any objections?"

No objections came. Instead, joyous looks appeared on the men’s faces as they realized their pay had just been tripled. And while it still wasn’t as much as talented members of the Houses would get, it would be invaluable to their progress.

Of course, Arran had no illusion that this would be enough to win their loyalty. But it was a first step, and there would be plenty of time to truly earn their trust later.

That he would have to do so, however, was a certainty.

Even if he could trust the Matriarch — something he still had doubts about — becoming her apprentice would earn him plenty of fresh enemies.

For all his sudden status within the Valley, he was still an outsider. That he was given a position like this would not sit well with everyone, and there would be trouble sooner or later.

Using his servants would be an obvious choice for any enemies he gained, and it was a weakness he wanted to address before it could be exploited.

It took him several minutes to hand out Essence Crystals to the servants, their eyes lighting up with excitement as they received their unexpected bonus.

The cost was high — just over a hundred crystals, all told — but Arran felt no regret in paying it. A hundred Essence Crystals might be a small fortune to others, but it barely made a dent in his wealth.

With the crystals handed out, the men eagerly set to work readying the mansion. After just a few moments, only Arran and Jovan remained in the hallway.

"Smart man," Jovan said. "After that, I reckon most of them won’t sell you out for a mug of ale at the tavern. Though I can’t promise another mug or two won’t do the trick."

Arran grinned, understanding that the man had easily read his intentions. "Any ideas on how to defeat that second mug?"

"Give them training," the bald man answered promptly. "Good teachers are hard to come by outside the Houses. Get them some proper instruction, and they’ll be in your debt."

"I’ll see what I can do," Arran said, although he feared the request might be difficult to fulfill. Handing out crystals was easy, but getting other mages to give up their time might prove troublesome.

"Appreciated," Jovan replied. "But I should return to my duties, before the others do any damage that can’t be undone. Before I go, Lord Ghostblade, is there anything you need?"

Arran thought for a moment, then said, "Have someone wake me up half an hour before dawn."

As his steward set off to direct the servants in readying the mansion for its new owner, Arran headed into the gardens.

Between the nap in the hot spring and his anxiety at whatever the morning would bring, he knew he would not be able to sleep just yet. So instead, he set to work absorbing Essence Crystals.

He had no idea what to expect for the next day, but improving his control of Essence certainly wouldn’t hurt. And although he was long past the point where Essence Crystals could still bring rapid progress, he would take any advantage he could get, no matter how small.

He spent several hours absorbing Purified Essence, burning through a good hundred crystals — another fortune gone forever. But his void ring still held thousands of crystals, and he was pleased to feel that he’d made some progress, insignificant though it was.

Yet as he finished, he realized he still didn’t feel the slightest bit tired.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he decided to head to the hot spring. If this was his last night of rest, he might as well enjoy it.

He sat in the hot spring for an hour or two, not thinking of anything but the stars above his head. When he eventually closed his eyes, it only took an instant before the world faded around him and he was deep asleep.