Nate walked through the city, surrounded by hundreds of people. Most were from the slums, divided between those wearing armour he had stolen from the Asmuisillans and those who had come to fight for their freedom in their work clothes and rags. While the Slummers made up the majority, there was a pocket from the Guild, including a team of Golds and two teams of Silvers. Finally, there was the notably larger pocket of Princess Morgane and the Nobles who supported her. Nate recognised a few of them. Baroness Olithia, who had unsuccessfully tried to lure Nate to her tent on multiple occasions. Then there was Marquess Leclair, the apparent cousin of Morgane carrying a hammer at his hip. There were also faces he didn’t recognise, most likely members of the Ducal House Korinth and their vassals. Surrounding them were their own Retainers. Some had veils, but enough didn’t that Nate could roughly judge the scale of their forces. Even discounting the Slummers, which Nate suspected was a bad idea since they had managed to force the Guard forces of the Capital into retreat, he was confident that their numbers and the scale of their forces should be more than a match for anything that Bordain could produce.

  Nate tried to focus his mind on the plan Morgane had put together, if it could even be called that. He understood they didn’t know the full scale of the forces Bordain could bring to bear, but they understood enough. Bordain’s elites, the ones that Hildi had named for him, were the main targets. Each had been assigned to one or more of Morgane’s own supporters. Mostly more than one, but that was predicated on the idea that Bordain’s remaining forces were limited.

  While he had paid attention to everyone involved, he had focused on the people he cared about. Luc had stated clearly he wanted to deal with his half-brother, Thierry. As far as they knew, Obsidian wasn’t a specialised combat class. However, his mastery of space magic would likely let him redirect attacks and interfere with other battles if he was left unchecked. Fortunately, Nate had considered that angle, since it was something he himself used. Luc, now in possession of one of Nate’s latest creations, was clearly keen to deal with the man.

  While Luc seemed confident he could handle his half-brother in a one-on-one fight, the same was not true for Headmaster Verian. Aisling and Evindal had been assigned to deal with the man. The reasoning had been sound. Since Aisling controlled multiple elements, she could potentially force the headmaster to try and adapt to her, while Evindal’s own skillset would keep his wife fighting and at the same time, was not something Verian should be able to easily counter or suppress.

  Cutter and those from the slums would be focusing on dealing with First Sword Joran and the Royal Guard. Nate had concerns about that plan but the promised support of some of House Korinth’s forces was enough to assuage his fears for the old smuggler.

  Morgane, Hildi and the rest of House Korinth’s vassals, including Duke Korinth himself, would be dealing with Bordain. The forces against Bordain were stacked with the goal being that they hoped the rest would surrender if the man was killed. Nate had his doubts, given the extent of the crimes committed, but it was as good an idea as any.

  Baroness Olithia, Marquess Leclair, and their forces would engage Sapphire and any remaining Nobles supporting Bordain. From Hildi’s spies, they were fairly confident that Bordain was running low on Platinums outside of his Elites, due to losses against Asmuisil. Still, it was one of the riskier parts of the plan as it was one of the few unknowns. A glut of Platinums on Bordain’s side could quickly cause Olithia and Leclair to falter. Either way, Nate had to acknowledge their bravery, as both the Baroness and Marquess had requested the task.

  The last two assignments were just as risky in their own ways. The first was the twins. They had snuck ahead of Morgane’s forces in the hope of contacting their sister, Garnet, and turning her from Bordain’s side. If successful, it was hoped that Garnet would engage with Duchess Desmarais. That hope was thin, though. Not only did they need to not get caught, they needed to successfully turn their sister and then convince her not to simply flee. It was dangerous, but Morgane and Aisling had both judged the risk acceptable; and since the twins had volunteered, there was nothing anyone else could do about it. Flash stalked nearby and Nate could sense the man clenching and unclenching his hands in worry.

  That same worry snaked into Nate’s heart at their own task. The Gold Elites of the Guild. That is what Morgane had called them when she made her suggestion, though Nate could clearly see Hildi’s hands in the mix. Nate, Kiri, Null, Britt, Deverell and Jorge were to try and sideline Topaz and Amethyst. Not kill. That had been made clear. Their job was to keep the two suppressed. Nate couldn’t argue with the logic, even if the risk of facing two Platinums did cause him concern. The simple fact was that, of Bordain’s forces, Topaz and Amethyst were the most adaptable. Topaz could take a multitude of forms, as far as they knew, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. The fact that their assigned group possessed a good mix of defensive, offensive, melee and ranged options, with Nate himself being eminently adaptable, meant they were the best to try and contain the Monstrous Shapeshifter. For that same reason, they were also the best to deal with Amethyst. Or, at least, that was Hildi’s logic. Nate suspected that overwhelming force would have worked just as well against the Gem or Crystal Mage who seemed to share some of his own dynamic crafting abilities. Using her ability to shape gems or crystal, the Platinum would be able to create large-scale enchantments, which made someone like Nate who could do the same a reasonable counter. The difference in levels, both Class and Skill, might not matter as much if Nate used higher tier Sigils. It would really depend on what Amethyst attempted. Frick was ready to try and counter any enchantments she made. Nate wasn’t fool enough to try and contest the woman's own control over gems, but blunt force trauma should work just fine for breaking apart any enchantments the woman tried to create.

  Nate settled for going over his runes as Kiri bumped his shoulder with her own, impacting his barrier, as she tried to help him settle his nerves.

  “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “They have to go through me to get you.”

  Nate smiled slightly, “How many times?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she replied, matching his smile. “I’m fucking immortal.”

  The joke was in bad taste, but it did help him relax a little. He wasn’t alone. It wasn’t all on his shoulders. He would simply do his best, save who he could, and come out the other side.

  *************

  Garnet watched the kicked ants’ nest that was the Palace. All of Bordain’s remaining forces were preparing for the final confrontation with his sister. The victor would be crowned monarch, the loser, along with their supporters, most likely executed. Once upon a time, that might have bothered her, but then, once upon a time she had a purpose. Victory could have meant freedom for her sisters. With them gone, she couldn’t really bring herself to care. She’d done much in service of Bordain. Taken and sold slaves, killed people, betrayed her country and plunged it into war. Any of those crimes would’ve been enough to see her executed, and she had done it all to save her sisters. Now, she looked out across the city from the third-floor window, noting the dust storm that marked hundreds of moving feet as they marched on the Palace, and found she didn’t care.

  Leaving was an option, but for what? She had nowhere to go. No one and nothing to live for. A life in service to a goal, and when that goal was snatched away, she was little more than a snuffed flame, clinging to the embers of the inner fire she had once possessed.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  She closed her eyes and debated ending it right there. Instead, she sensed something approaching. Someone. Two someone’s. Glancing out of the corner of her eye she could see nothing, but her Heat Sense didn’t lie. The embers inside her flared, barely, and she accepted that while she was ready to die, the fire inside her would not go quietly.

  Then the Illusion vanished and two girls appeared before her. She didn’t recognise them, and the flames inside of her began to whirl faster in preparation for a fight, when the one on the left spoke.

  “Bellanca, it’s really you!”

  Garnet almost immolated the girl on reflex. It was the second time in almost a decade that someone had used her real name.

  “Who are you?” she asked. Was her Stepmother playing games with her?

  “It’s Abigail,” the girl answered.

  “And Genivieve,” mirrored the other.

  Garnet felt the fire inside her cry out in fury.

  “How dare you try and use the names of my sisters against me!” she hissed angrily.

  “We are your sisters,” the one calling herself Abigail replied tentatively.

  “My sisters are dead. Killed by Guild members aiding Princess Morgane.”

  Both girls shook their heads at her words. “Not killed. Freed. The Soul Mark is gone. Nate and Kiri from the Guild removed them.”

  Garnet paused. Could it be true? She had served Bordain because his mastery of Soul Magic was a path to removing the Soul Marks placed on her sisters by their mother, Duchess Desmarais. She had never heard of anyone else in the country that could match the Duchess when it came to Soul Magic.

  “Prove it,” she demanded.

  “When we were five, and taking training as Unseen, you used to sneak us treats from the kitchen. When mother discovered it, she wanted to have you beaten, but father laughed and said that children would be children. A week later, Retainers brought back the Thrice Blooming Fire Blossom from our Epic Dungeon. We never understood why you stole it and ate it. You had always talked about how you were going to be a Storm Mage like father. After that, it was like there was a distance between you and the rest of the family,” answered Genivieve quietly. “We hated it. It was like the only tentative link we had to being treated like people had been snatched away. Father stopped doting on you. Then you vanished… and everything got so much worse.”

  Garnet froze. It wasn’t definitive proof, but the details were all there. She remembered that time clearly. How opposed she had been to her sisters being made Unseen and how their father hadn’t seemed to care. The pain bloomed in her chest like it was just yesterday. What really struck home was the comment about being a Storm Mage. She had forgotten that. Why would she have decided to be a Fire Mage instead? The Desmarais had been Storm Mages for generations. The memory of the Thrice Blooming Fire Blossom appeared in her mind, and she felt an unconscious desire for it. The thought burned away under her flames and a burning anger took its place. That manipulative bitch had used her Soul Magic on her. Treated her sisters like tools to be used and discarded. Shifted her own desires and created a distance between her and her father.

  “I… I believe you,” she whispered, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. She had worked for so long to see them free, and it was her master's enemies that had granted her deepest desire.

  She reached out her arms for the twins and they both moved in to wrap themselves around her as the trio sobbed.

  “What will you do?” asked Genivieve, looking up, tears staining her cheeks.

  She thought about the question. She no longer needed to serve Bordain, no longer needed to be his tool. Her sisters were free, finally, after so long, and there was only one way to make sure they stayed that way. Duchess Desmarais and Bordain had to die.

  “I’m going to kill your mother,” Bellanca answered vehemently, the burning anger in her focusing on that one goal.

  “Good,” stated Abigail, apparently completely fine with seeing her own mother put in the ground. “Don’t miss. What can we do to help?”

  Genivieve nodded her agreement with her twin.

  “Stay out of the way. If you can’t do that, stick to the edges of the battlefield. I’m going to finish this, once and for all.”

  Bellanca nodded, reaching up to touch the cheeks of her younger sisters gently.

  “I’ll see you when this is over,” she lied, not believing she would survive.

  The twins slipped away under the cover of their illusions. Heat Sense told Bellanca when the two were gone and she pulled out some paper to start writing a farewell. If she survived, which was doubtful, someone like her would have no place in what came after. Not unless she proved she deserved a second chance. Her crimes were many, and though her reasons for committing them were enough for her, she doubted anyone else would see it that way.

  Her sisters were saved. She would take revenge on the source of all her family’s pain. Then, she would turn on Bordain, starting with Sapphire. If she survived, she could throw herself on the mercy of the survivors. If she didn’t survive, well, that was as much as she deserved anyway. At least her sisters would be free. That was enough for her.

  *************

  The palace, which had looked small in the distance, had quickly begun to loom large as they covered the distance from the Adventurer’s Guild compound to its gates. Nate had expected the large, clearly enchanted, wooden gates to remain closed. Instead, they stood wide open, welcoming Morgane and her forces inside, into the belly of the beast.

  Waiting for them was Bordain, along with his forces, the gigantic sandstone palace behind him. Nate did a quick count and realised that in terms of numbers they outnumbered Bordain’s forces almost two to one. In terms of quality, though, it was closer to even than Nate was comfortable with, compounded by the fact that Bordain was somewhat of an unknown. Hildi had known that he was a pugilist who used his size and strength to overpower his opponents, but little else. Bordain wore golden gauntlets that covered him his hands to his elbows, along with a matching golden breastplate. Legendary items, both. The gauntlets would store the damage he blocked and release it explosively at will, along with a solid boost to the man's Charisma Stat. The breastplate, on the other hand, was a growth item, much like Nate’s own robe. It would scale with Charisma and could release pulses of destabilising mana. Effectively, a similar mechanism to Null’s own aura.

  Slightly over a thousand people filled the grounds of the Palace, but it was hard to look at anyone other than Bordain. There was a magnetism to the man, making him the undoubted centre of attention. Morgane had crafted an illusion around herself that made her look truly Royal, but it was just that, an illusion. Bordain looked like a Royal, like a King. It took an effort of will for Nate to pump more mana into the Soul Barrier engraved upon him. Even doing so only lessened the effect. It was enough for Nate’s mind to start working again, though, and he realised that Bordain was the opposite to Kiri. Kiri’s ability to influence others through her Willpower had always been limited and costly. Her Willpower was meant to defend. It was the soul’s ability to protect itself from outside influence. Bordain focused on Charisma, the opposite of Willpower. His was a path of using soul energy to influence others. Though that was probably only one facet of the man’s skillset. After all, you didn’t get to Mythic without having a few different tools to lean on.

  Morgane’s forces halted, spreading out as individuals and groups moved to be near their targets. Bordain didn’t seem to care, with eyes only for his sister, except for a single glance towards Nate and Kiri.

  When he spoke, it was clear his words were only for them, “Nathaniel and Kiri, I had hoped you would choose strength, rather than weakness. Instead of seizing the opportunity before you, you have chosen to wallow in mediocrity. I hope, for your sakes, that you survive the lesson that your mistake is about to impart.”

  Bordain’s eyes flicked to Morgane, “Do away with the pretty show, sister. The illusion of power is a poor and shifting foundation upon which to base a kingdom. Kneel, acknowledge me as King, and I will spare you. You will return to the Marquess Leclair’s domain and live out your days within its confines in exile. I will even spare your supporters, though they will need to swear binding oaths, a fitting punishment for their poor decisions. Do you accept my generous terms?”

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