(93) Cute!

Nephthys followed Bernard down the stairs, her human disguise donned. He barely fit in the passage, and his shoulders constantly brushed against either wall.

“These narrow corridors will need widening,” Lamorak muttered, coughing into his hand. “And cleaned.”

He followed Nephthys, with one of Bernard’s personal guards bringing up the rear. Gregsa, leading the party, stepped down from the final stair, facing the mouth of a tunnel that seemed to stretch forever. It was no more than six feet wide at the cornerstone and seven feet high at the keystone. While possible, it would be uncomfortable to maneuver two abreast through its depths.

“Who the fuck—where did you all come from?!” shouted one of the men standing sentinel at the mouth of the tunnel.

The second snorted, shaking awake from the shout and scrambling with his shortsword as he rose from his nap against the wall. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking the mouth of the tunnel, forcing Gregsa to shuffle off to the side of the small room connecting the stairs and the tunnel.

The two tunnel guards’ brows climbed higher as more and more people filed into the cramped room. They exchanged nervous looks, particularly when Bernard entered, though whether it was because they recognized him or merely because of his considerable size, Nephthys was unsure.

She frowned as her shoulders were squished, bodies cramming into the tiny room, yet the final of Bernard’s guard still could not fit. With a wave of her hand, the walls receded, pushing back at opposite ends and extending the space by an additional dozen feet.

“Oh, fuck,” one of the tunnel guards muttered, lowering his sword.

The other followed suit, and Nephthys had to acknowledge their wisdom. They did not know her, but they knew the folly of fighting an earth mage underground, though ‘earth mage’ was rather reductive for her skill set, she thought.

“Begone, miscreants. This tunnel is now under the purview of Bernard Buchanan, Executor of Radaar. Inform your overlords at Taolu of this news. Inform them also that the dirt trade is dead, and their organization is no longer welcome on our land,” Gregsa declared, crossing his arms menacingly before him.

“We don’ work for—” one of the tunnel guards started, but Gregsa cut him off.

“Begone!” he ordered.

The two appeared to struggle, their minds failing to comprehend the sudden turn of events. They stared blankly, shifting gazes between Bernard’s group and each other for a few seconds before Nephthys’ patience ran thin.

Thump.

Two flat stone pillars rose from the ground behind each guard, bumping them in the back and pushing them forward toward the stairs. They scuttled up, both mumbling under their breath about who was going to regret what and other such nonsense. When their voices faded fully, Nephthys raised a portion of the ground to block the exit temporarily, unwilling to risk any eavesdropping.

“They won’t take that lying down,” Bernard mused.

“They will not have a choice,” Nephthys responded, and Gregsa nodded in approval.

“I suppose I will have to make a declaration, ban the company formally,” Bernard sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“You should pair it with a rule or law. For example, ‘The distribution of dirt within Radaar is outlawed forevermore,’ or some such. Pair the decree with a rule that your citizens can follow. It will make the declaration easier to accept, make it seem less arbitrary,” Nephthys suggested.

Bernard turned toward her, a brow raised.

“I thought this ‘People’s Assembly’ was going to be making the laws?” he said.

“It will when it exists. For now, the nation must rely on you alone. Besides, the Executor has the power to make executive decrees…or whatever Radaar decides for its governance. The specifics are yours to work out,” Nephthys said, waving a hand dismissively.

“Ha, you say that, but you seem pretty interested, filled with suggestions. Why not just step in? Radaar could integrate with Nemesis fully, become a nation that encompasses all of Ashreach,” he offered, a small smile on his face.

“No, thank you. My interest is in people being treated fairly and well, nothing more,” she declared firmly. “You are not going to dump all this on me.”

Bernard merely shook his head, chuckling.

Nephthys advanced into the tunnel, running her hand along the wall. It was not what she was expecting. She had watched earth mages dig the latter portions, but it was still surprising to see such robust architecture and planning for a smuggling operation.

The mages had compacted the earth they moved into arches placed every few feet within the tunnel, as well as struts running parallel to the tunnel along the walls, and one line of reinforced stone where the arch's keystone would be. They had effectively used the excavated earth as reinforcement for the tunnel itself.

Though the tunnel was barren, with the ground and walls being merely exposed dirt and stone, the compacted, reinforced stone was an inspired technology, effectively removing the need to haul dirt out of the tunnel and to bring in wooden beams to reinforce it. 

She would have to make a mental note. She did not know whether she would ever find herself digging a huge tunnel, but the knowledge might be useful somewhere.

“This will need to be widened extensively if the goal is to fit cart traffic,” Lamorak huffed, his arms crossed, considering the monumental task.

“I would not suggest that,” Nephthys said.

“You were the one who suggested it originally,” Bernard deadpanned.

“That was before the revolution, when Radaar was part of Sardvend and land outside the cities was dangerous. I expect that, with new leadership, the safety of the surrounding land will improve.

“You should work on a road that leads to the mountains. Station it with guards and patrol it regularly. Its construction will take time, and you can sponsor jobs at the guild to guard the workers. 

“That will give them something to do and provide time for you to fill out the guard in Gloamview with trustworthy folk,” Nephthys explained.

“If I were going to do that, why would I not just start the road from my own territory? Why here?” Bernard asked.

“This is your territory, Bernard. You are the executive leader of Radaar, and you cannot lead the nation from a small manor in the wilderness. You should make Gloamview your home, the new capital of the new Radaar,” Nephthys suggested.

A silence blanketed the room, the entire party turning various looks on her. Some were stupefied, others contemplative. She allowed the silence to linger, turning to inspect the tunnel further.

“It is not a bad suggestion, my lord. Much as I prefer our home, it would be difficult to lead people you do not live among,” Lamorak reasoned.

“Sure. I will do what is needed, but why Gloamview, in that case? Why not Promise City?” he said, stroking his chin.

“Promise City was the capital under Sardvend’s rule. It is where Sardvend decided to set up because it had clean access to the Straight. In that way, Promise City is representative of the past, Radaar as a colony, prioritizing access to Sardvend. 

“Gloamview represents the future, a budding frontier city that will become the center for trade in Radaar,” she said, spreading her arms grandly.

“A future notably contingent on our partnership with Nemesis,” Lamorak observed.

“All good partnerships involve concessions,” Nephthys retorted, shrugging.

Bernard sighed, shaking his head as he examined the tunnel.

“What do we do with this, then?” he asked.

Nephthys smiled.

————————————————

Daedron crouched low, using the scrub bushes to hide himself from any eyes that might graze his perch. He studied the valley below, inspecting every branch on every tree, every rock larger than a pebble, and every blade of grass that covered the slope.

Threats could hide anywhere, and though he was now strong enough to leave the village, he had to be extra wary.

Reaching the second brink was the minimum requirement to leave, and he had finally achieved it just weeks after his nineteenth birthday. It had taken him nineteen years, which was quick by most standards, even considering he was born at level 128. 

Still, he was quick, but not prodigious, and he knew the majority of creatures that stalked the Peaks could kill him effortlessly.

Even at level 200, he was firmly at the bottom of the food chain.

For several long moments, he watched, and finally, after confirming the area was secure, rose from his camouflage. He drew his bow silently, the tightening cord and bending frame uttering not so much as a creak. He activated a skill, and with a thump, his arrow flew, seeming to split the air.

A rabbit popped its head up just slightly too late to notice the arrow, which pierced its chest, the arrowhead piercing all the way through and out the other side. It collapsed in a pile of white fur, its sharp horns scraping the rocks beneath it.

Daedron exhaled in relief, gathering his things and sliding down the slope. Though relieved, he did not relax, his eyes darting left and right, always alert, always watching. He hopped over the small creek, too small and shallow to host any dangerous waterborne creatures, and approached his prize.

Scree!

Daedron tensed, spinning around and, with practiced motions, loosed another arrow. The rabbit zipped away, faster than lightning, and his arrow buried itself into the ground where it had just screeched at him.

“Shit,” he cursed, grabbing the dead rabbit by the ears and bolting.

Ground rabbits were about the only thing he could hunt in this area. Their levels were usually in the low 200s, but they were primed for speed rather than defense. That he could kill one with a single, well-placed shot was the main reason he could hunt them safely.

Pop, pop, pop.

‘Safe’ was perhaps not the operative word, actually.

He spared a glance behind to see a horde of ground rabbits bursting from the ground, their eyes locking onto him immediately. They were rabbits that used earth magic to dig their burrows, though that was the least impressive thing about them.

The hairs on the back of his neck raised, and he threw himself to the side, two rabbits burying their small, sharp horns in the ground beside him.

The main issue with these rabbits was their tendency to nest in families. Not only did they reproduce like mad, but their families usually lived in burrows that hosted several generations of kin, and they were fiercely defensive. 

Their strength in numbers and propensity to look out for one another were what allowed them to survive in this harsh environment, despite being preyed upon by nearly everything else.

Daedron cursed himself for his carelessness. He had been so cautious to check his surroundings, but he had become so focused on returning to the village with a successful kill that he had not even considered whether his prey was far from home or not.

He flipped onto his stomach, reaching for a knife in his belt, just in time to glimpse horns. The rabbit’s horns occupied his entire field of view. They were about to pierce straight into his eyes. He was going to die.

“Whew!” came a high-pitched voice.

The rabbit was yanked by its back legs out of the air just before it could gouge his eyes out, and Daedron collapsed onto his back, breathing heavily. He had never been so close to death, and his body was wracked with adrenaline that demanded he act, that he do something.

“Hup! Whoopsie!” the voice chimed.

Daedron sat up, propping himself up on his elbows to witness something truly vexing.

A woman with dark gray skin and sharp ears—were those called nuarchs?—petted the rabbit that had nearly killed him, cradling it like a beloved pet. Its family launched themselves at her, intending to spear her from all angles, yet they seemed to just…bounce off, as if her clothing were impenetrable armor, and she giggled at all of their attempts to disembowel her.

She wore a dark but plain tunic and pants, and she was barefoot, strangely, her toenails curved and sharp, almost like talons. He was tempted to think her underdressed for how dangerous the area was, but the colossal ax strapped to her back dissuaded him from that thought. 

She turned toward him, and he saw that her vibrant blue eyes, which seemed to glow, were slitted like a reptile’s.

“These guys are so cute!” she called with a smile.