Chương 122: Chapter 115

Caius Drenn I looked up to see another member of the Priesthood of the Twelve. I glowered at him. He walked in without knocking, rolled his eyes, and gave me an arrogant smile.

"Come now, young one. Do not be so rigid."

"Young one. I am ten years younger than you are."

"Eleven. Details matter little, young one." I rolled my eyes.

"What do you want, Edric?" He just grinned at me again. Edric Casvane was thirty-six years old and carried himself with the persona of a translated being. I was not sure, at least in the time I had known him, if he had ever considered even the possibility that he was wrong about anything important. He was not stupid about it. That was the frustrating part. He was right often enough that the arrogance had earned its foundation, which made it considerably more difficult to argue with than arrogance built on nothing.

He had held the Meridian seat for eight years, which meant he had taken it at twenty-eight, the kind of detail that got mentioned in briefing documents and then quietly ignored because it made certain senior seats uncomfortable. He was the church's public face because the man was essentially an Adonis, a genuine vision of church-preserved perfection. Above average height, chiseled, with white-blond hair and highly symmetrical features.

According to the Vascari Weekly, he was considered number one on the list of arcane artists readers most wanted to marry, and he was especially popular in Vascari because of the obvious national pride. The man relished the attention while disdaining most of the people offering it. The Saints of the Priesthood were not celibate. They had tried that years ago, and it went about as well as you would expect from men of considerable personal power. Not celibate, then, and not marrying either.

The Saints of the Priesthood were married to the church, though most of them had something resembling heirs and families. It was complicated. Edric Casvane was one of those who had many a lover and heir, though that was all kept quiet given that he was the face of the church for a reason. And not just because of how he looked. It was in how the man interacted with everyone around him, and in his own natural mana manifestation. He came across as a teddy bear when really he was more like a wolf.

Regardless, he was good at the role. He knew he was very good at it, and the knowledge sat on him as expensive attire sat on people who had always had it, without effort, as if it had never been otherwise. He looked at the gladius in my hand, at the practice mat, at me. He had already decided what he was going to say. He was working out the shortest path to saying it.

"You're here about the Gala," I said, before he could.

"The broadcast is theater," he said.

"Impressive theater. But theater. Thessaly at her finest. That woman will do anything to try to entice me." I set the gladius down on the mat and looked at him.

"I'm sorry. Your theory is that Thessaly staged the entire Gala incident, including recruiting someone to impersonate the Ghost of the Wastes, because she has a crush on you."

"A calculated move," he said.

"She has always been theatrical."

"Edric. Someone impersonating the Ghost of the Wastes. Do you understand what that means? The Dominion of Moria does not exist anymore because someone tried exactly that. The Ghost's reputation is not a costume you put on. The mercenary community would hunt that person to the edges of the known worlds. No professional touches that contract. No sane person attempts it." I looked at him steadily.

"Thessaly is many things. She is not stupid. She is not suicidal. And she is absolutely not doing any of this because she wants your attention." Edric was quiet for a moment.

"The World Tree Lattice is not an intelligence assessment," he said, with slightly less certainty than he had walked in with.

"It is a viewing platform."

"It is a viewing platform that showed us someone who just handled the Pale Sovereign and walked away. That is not a performance, Edric. That is real." He said nothing to that. Which from Edric was the closest thing to conceding a point he ever offered.

"Did you see it," he said finally. Ah. So that was why he was here. I nodded, grateful for the change in conversation.

"Yes. The OSO sweep of the Northern Preserve site pulled alarm lattice footage from inside the property. We never got a clean look at whoever killed the Auctor. Masked, gone before the lattice captured anything useful. But the blade was visible in three separate captures and the OSO ran the mana signature. Omen blade. Confirmed." Edric's eyes sharpened slightly.

"And Mirefall."

"Our assets at Mirefall ran the same scan on the man in black during the Gala. The signature matches. Same blade." I paused.

"And Cipher's own mana profile cross-references against Ghost of the Wastes incident reports going back years. Three independent confirmations. The man in black at Mirefall is the Ghost of the Wastes and he is carrying the Auctor's blade. This is absolutely confirmed, which is why your statement about Thessaly having someone pose as the Ghost of the Wastes is, I am sorry to say, idiotic."

"I am still not convinced. Thessaly would absolutely hire somebody to pose as someone powerful to get my attention. Are you sure it was not someone else posing as him?" I looked at him.

"I should remind you. The Dominion of Moria does not exist anymore because of actions like that. I cannot emphasize this enough. No sane person is going to attempt to pose as the Ghost of the Wastes. Besides, the mana profile does not lie. The Northern Preserve, the mercenary known as Cipher, and the Ghost of the Wastes, they are all the same person."

"So you are assuming that he is the Ghost of the Wastes and that the Ghost of the Wastes is in possession of the Omen blade."

"It is not even subject to debate at this point. It is not an assumption, it is confirmed. Yes."

"That requires some careful consideration." I nodded.

"The confirmation itself is straightforward. The events and implications are more complex." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"Events and implications. What do you mean? Walk me through it."

"His sister has been looking for him for a long time. He was bound to our friend who used him like a combat asset," I said, using the word as we always used it when we meant the opposite and needed to speak without naming.

"Our friend was running some sort of operation on Valecis Isle. The OSO sweep of the Northern Preserve site picked up lattice footage from inside the property connected to a Technica service restore that captured various scenes from around the property before a large section of it was corrupted. I assume that was a failsafe triggered by our friend. The projection footage we recovered was partial but useful. We did pick up his mana signature.

And there was a strangely intense sword battle near the northern structure where the hostages were saved. We got some footage of the Ghost saving the people inside the structure, and he had a sword strapped to his back. The blade was visible in several separate captures. Once we cross-checked the mana signature you know how unique that blade is. It was the Omen blade.

This happened only six weeks ago, right when the Dominions of Vera and Ava were trying to establish an alliance against Atillia, and then the Ghost appears at the Ascendant Ball threatening the Dusk Assembly with assured destruction." I paused.

"All that came after is less important to the overall narrative. It goes back to the sword battle recorded in the mana pollution at the Northern Preserve. My guess is the Ghost dueled the Pinnacle Auctor of the Blade who was oath-bound to our friend. The Auctor lost and either gave the blade or it was recovered after he died. Veskari Auctors of the Blade do not lose their weapons, which means he most likely gave it willingly." Edric rolled his eyes.

"You are so concerned with this legacy that you are still reluctant to say his name." I didn't respond, remaining quiet while Edric considered my words.

"So if I am understanding you correctly, you are trying to tell me that the Ghost of the Wastes beat one of the greatest Auctors of the Blade in Veskari history without any collateral damage or circumstance. You cannot be serious."

"I am telling you nothing else makes sense. There is no way he would have surrendered the blade without triggering the Blade's Inner Defense Protocol. The Omen is a Named blade. Named blades cannot simply be held by anyone. The Auctor lost his life but gave his sword to the Ghost before he died. Our friend probably instigated the duel before running away but not before he lost one of his greatest combat assets. That is the only conclusion I can reach."

"Losing a combat asset like that is like locusts in the wheat. That damn Priest. He lost on several fronts there," Edric said.

"So the Ghost and Maximus fought. Do you think Maximus required an oath of the Ghost?" I shivered at the name. Max. Such a simple name for so great a man. He was so great that I did not even like saying it out loud. I answered the question.

"I think trying to require the Ghost of the Wastes, who just beat you in a duel, to swear an Oath of Rescission seems awfully presumptuous when you are most likely dying. If Maximus was Oathbonded but required to fight well, he would have been thankful for the defeat. Lord knows he did not experience it very often. I suspect he was very appreciative of the Ghost. Maximus probably asked him to do a favor. We all know the rumors. The Ghost of the Wastes isn't afraid of violence but lives by a certain honor code.

Maximus might have been fighting on the wrong side, but he was also an honorable combatant. And the Ghost does not take those things lightly. I suspect he decided to fulfill whatever requests Maximus made of him. The Ghost of the Wastes has a tendency to take things personally. He will fulfill a debt to a dead man. He does not do things halfway." I paused.

"That actually reminds me of something. Did you see the very public business with Aurel Mercer?"

"I cannot be expected to keep up with all the news in all the Dominions, Caius. It cuts into my personal time." I rolled my eyes.

"Aurel Mercer was connected to the Northern Preserve attack. Mainly logistics and transportation concerning ward keys. Valecis Isle has some of the strongest ward lattice defenses of any Dominion I have seen. Mercer gave access to our friend and his associates. The rumor is that the Ghost of the Wastes took that personally."

"Yes, I have seen the reports as well, but I am getting the feeling you are making a broader connection. You think our friend is connected to everything that has been happening to Vera. The attack on Aiden Vanta and Professor Adeline, the ambush and infiltration of Virex Caelum, and now the death of the Crown Prince of Ava and the evocation of a Covenant Token."

"It has our friend's fingerprints all over it. The elegance, the connection, the three steps removed from anything resembling personal violence. It is almost too smart and well-executed not to be him. But it leads to a very disturbing point. He has used the church's desire for anonymity as both a shield and a sword at various points. His plans have seemed to escalate. Whatever he is building toward next, he is going to account for the Ghost as a variable and probably attempt to neutralize him.

In response, the Ghost of the Wastes is going to get involved, and if that happens—" Edric finished the sentence.

"This gets very public." He raised an eyebrow, somewhat amused. Then it dropped as he considered it. He was quiet again. Longer this time. The thing that neither of us said, that we were both thinking, that we would not say even here in a closed room with no staff present, was that our friend had not always been outside the institution. That the seat he had vacated was still officially listed as occupied.

That the OSO had been managing that fiction for years because the alternative required a conversation that the Luminary's office had repeatedly found reasons to postpone. The attack on the potential union of the Dominion of Vera and Ava had ended the postponement.

"You think he is up to something big," I said.

"Clearly he is up to something, but he is so circular with his plans it is hard to tell how big. The Northern Preserve operation was not the end game. It was the opening move to a greater strategy and goal. Otherwise the actual variables do not make any sense. The stated targets have no real importance. Two princesses of minor Dominions? Kaereth Valmor? Sure, he is the young master of the Valmor Dukedom, but he has zero political standing at this point. The Duke is young. He is not going anywhere for a while."

"So you think it was the prelude. He was doing some sort of test run."

"It has to be, unless it was a pure contract hit, which makes even less sense. His prices are astronomical and the resources expended on that operation were just as outrageous." I picked up the gladius and set it back in its case, figuring I was not getting anything else done tonight. Edric looked at me. Something I had said had landed, and he was weighing whether my being right was more annoying than useful.

"Consilium. Tonight," I said.

"I do not think we can ignore this any longer."

"You want to move against him. Just like that."

"I want the institution to formally acknowledge what we both know about that seat and take it off the table. Every day the fiction stands is another day he can use the access that fiction provides." I held his gaze.

"And we need to open a channel to Vera." Edric's expression shifted fractionally.

"That is a considerably more complicated step."

"King Cassian's court is going to investigate what happened there. If we go to them before they come to us, we shape the conversation. If we wait, we are responding to their version of events."

"Going to Vera means going to a court that is currently hosting the Ghost of the Wastes under Crown-level sanction," Edric said.

"It means entering a political situation that includes that individual as an active and now very public variable."

"Then we go in knowing that."

"You make that sound straightforward."

"It is not straightforward," I said.

"It is necessary. Those are different things." Edric was quiet for a long moment. Outside, Vorreth reflected the hour, the noise of the city at night, the bustle rising past the walls of Sanctum Primaris with a population's indifference. They knew nothing of our conversation or the ramifications it might have on their lives. It was how it should be.

"The Luminary and Consilium will want a position on the Ghost before he agrees to anything regarding Vera," Edric said finally.

"They will ask us what we think the Ghost actually is, and whether the broadcast represents his actual capability."

"Then we tell him we do not know yet and that is precisely why we need the Vera channel." Edric looked at me for a moment, revising something behind his eyes.

"You have thought about this longer than tonight," he said.

"Three months," I said.

"Since the gladius thread." He said nothing to that. He moved toward the door like a man whose evening had already contracted past the point of comfort.

"Come," he said.

"We are not going to resolve this here." I followed him and stopped at the door.

"Edric." He turned.

"When we sit down with the Consilium and Luminary," I said.

"The seat. It goes on the table as a decision, not a consideration. I need to know you are with me on that before we walk in." He held my gaze for a moment.

"I am with you on that," he said. We went to find the others.