Free Web NovelChapter 24: Siren Stronghold [ 20 ]
The doors to the chamber opened. One of the guards gestured for them to return.
They walked back in side by side. The Elders had rearranged themselves slightly during the recess. Elder Maren now sat at the far left, separated from the others by an empty seat. The sharp-cheeked Elder sat closest to the center, practically leaning toward Elder Voss like she was trying to absorb his authority through proximity.
"We have reached a decision," the reedy-voiced Elder announced. "By a vote of three to one, with one abstention, the council moves to classify the entity known as Nacho as a potential threat to Lumen’s security. As such, he will be bound by Soul Contract to serve the interests of the Siren people under the direction of the Elder Council."
Nacho’s blood went cold.
Sera stepped forward. "Elder Voss abstained?"
The old man’s milky eyes blinked slowly. "I did."
"May I ask why?"
"Because I’m not convinced either way." His voice carried through the chamber without effort. "The creature is clearly dangerous. But dangerous tools have their uses. I abstained because I wanted to see what would happen next."
The sharp-cheeked Elder’s smile was thin and predatory. "What happens next is the binding. Guards, secure the asset."
Two armored figures stepped forward from positions Nacho hadn’t noticed. They moved fast, professional, weapons already drawn.
Nacho didn’t move.
"Grand General," he said quietly. "Didn’t you mention some kind of rule about ties?"
Sera’s jaw was tight. "It’s not a tie. Three to one with an abstention is still a majority."
"Mm." Nacho rolled his shoulders. "Then I guess we’re doing this the other way."
He reached into his inventory and pulled out two Silverion Daggers. The metal caught the light, gleaming with an edge sharp enough to split water.
The guards hesitated.
"The entity resists!" The sharp-cheeked Elder rose from her seat. "This is proof of his—" frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
"Sit down."
Elder Voss’s voice cracked through the chamber like a whip. The sharp-cheeked Elder froze mid-sentence, mouth still open.
The old man leaned forward in his seat, milky eyes fixed on the daggers in Nacho’s hands. They seemed very familiar...
"Where did those come from?"
Nacho smiled. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
"They seem relatively similar to someone else I know... Did you make them?"
"I did."
Voss stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he began to laugh. It was a dry, rasping sound, like sand sliding down a dune.
"Guards, stand down." He waved a hand. "I’m changing my vote. I side with the Grand General."
The chamber erupted.
The sharp-cheeked Elder shot to her feet so fast her chair scraped against the stone floor. Her face had gone from smug to furious in the span of a heartbeat.
"You cannot simply change your vote after deliberation has concluded! The rules clearly state that once a decision has been announced—"
"The rules state that any Elder may amend their position if new information comes to light during proceedings." Voss didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The weight of his words pressed down on the chamber like a physical force. "I have just received new information."
"What information? He pulled out daggers! That’s not information, that’s a threat!"
"Elder Korith." Voss turned those milky eyes toward the sharp-cheeked woman, and she actually flinched. "Do you know what those daggers are?"
Korith’s mouth opened, then closed. She looked at the blades in Nacho’s hands, really looked at them this time. The silver metal caught the bioluminescent light from the windows and threw it back in fractured patterns across the walls.
"They’re... weapons."
"They’re Silverion. Forged from mana alone, if I’m not mistaken." Voss leaned back in his seat, his weathered hands resting on the armrests. "I’ve only seen that technique twice in my life. Once from a legendary craftsman who died forty years ago. And once from my own daughter, who inherited his Talent through pure luck."
The room went quiet. Even the guards had lowered their weapons, though they hadn’t sheathed them entirely.
Nacho felt Sera’s surprise pulse through Mind Fortress, quickly suppressed. She hadn’t known about this connection. Neither had he.
Dagger Duchess. Captain Rhea Valdross. Third Legion, Ironcrest Division.
The pieces clicked together in his head like puzzle pieces falling from the sky.
Well shit. I stole his daughter’s Talent and then made daggers right in front of him. What are the odds?
On the flip side, at least the old man didn’t know HOW he stole his daughter’s Talents.
"You have my daughter’s Talent." Voss’s voice had lost its commanding edge. Now it was just quiet. Curious. Maybe a little dangerous. "How?"
Voss clearly knew what he was looking at, and any attempt to bullshit would only make things worse. But telling the whole truth meant admitting he’d gotten his tentacle inside the man’s daughter during what was supposed to be a massage.
Yeah, let’s maybe not lead with that.
"I have a lot of Talents," Nacho said carefully. "That’s kind of my thing. I collect them."
"Collect." Voss repeated. "From where?"
"From people. They don’t lose theirs. I guess, I just copy?"
The chamber was so quiet Nacho could hear his own heartbeat. The three hostile Elders were exchanging glances that ranged from confused to calculating. Elder Maren, the one Sera said was on their side, had leaned forward in her seat with an expression of genuine interest.
Voss nodded slowly, as if Nacho had just confirmed something he’d already suspected.
"Rhea came home three days ago. She was different. Lighter. Like someone had removed a weight from her shoulders that she’d been carrying for years." He paused. "She also couldn’t stop talking about some masked masseuse in the slums who had done something miraculous to her back."
Oh no.
"She said his name was Nacho."
Oh no no no.
Sera’s surface thoughts were a hurricane of realization and barely contained amusement. She was putting the pieces together in real time, and the picture she was forming was apparently hilarious to her.
Nacho kept his face completely blank. Years of debt collection had taught him the value of a poker face, and he was deploying every ounce of that training right now.
"That’s a coincidence," he said.
"Is it?"
"Yep. Pretty common name where I’m from."
"And where are you from?"
"Uhh... Very far away."
