Chương 195: Chapter 312: Checkmate

Over the course of several hours, Badur spent the entirety of the treasury on petty shit, up to and including modifying the zoning requirements around his private manor. It was now illegal to build anything taller than his wife's bedroom, because she liked the color of the evening sun on the cliffs to the east. There was also a noise ordinance and nuisance laws that would force the tavern and the entertainment district to move further away from Badur's house. Open-air barbeque was still okay, though.

"I've been thinking about doing these for a while," Badur said, deftly spinning a pen atop his ink-stained finger as he spoke.

"Never could get permission to do them before, but William Oh isn't here and this is an emergency, so we need a way to lose millions of Ivory in a matter of hours. I might as well add that drop to the bucket."

"Wait, drop in the bucket?" Pax demanded.

"Are you saying that was a waste of my time?"

"No, Sheriff." Badur motioned for Pax to join him at the window, then pointed down where a huge double-line of the citizens were assembled outside the Lord's tower.

"Those ones are buying raw flash glass and anchorite from our vault with a crafter's license." Badur said, pointing at one line. He then pointed at the other line, which was composed of everyone who had just gone through the first line.

"Those ones are selling it back to the stronghold for a markup."

"Why can't you just set the price at 'all the money in the coffers?'" Pax demanded.

"There are rigid bureaucratic limits built into our trade system on how much one crafting licensee can buy, and how much the stronghold can mark the prices up or down from last known market value." Badur preened.

"I designed them myself."

"Well, change the market value, then!"

"Market value is reported weekly from Akul." Badur replied.

"It can't be changed until we receive the Ability-coded letter from Akul's Logisticians in three days. Not to worry though, Sheriff. We'll have that pesky preservation Ability deactivated in a matter of hours. It'll take a little bit longer because the automatic tax will cause a little bit of that money to trickle back in but it's fine."

"…Would it go away if you died?" Pax asked.

"Yes, actually. My Abilities slot neatly into the infrastructure of the Stronghold, but they are still reliant on me to function." Paz stabbed Badur in the face sixteen times before he regained control.

"Unfortunately, due to my Lord adding infrastructure and leaving without telling anyone about it, a synergistic effect happened between his Stronghold and my Abilities that seems to have made our citizens nearly immortal," Badur said, rolling his eyes at his Lord's antics, his face pristine. Pax faintly realized he was growling and managed to get his expression back under control.

"How about a nap?" Badur asked.

"The coffers should be empty in about two hours, and then we can get rid of this pesky damage chain." Pax hadn't slept in three days, so a nap did sound good. even with high enough Resistance to ignore it, going without sleep was unpleasant.

"No. I need to be present when the altar is destroyed." Pax said. To be more precise, he needed to stab someone multiple times with Rose's Thorn the moment before the damage chain was severed, otherwise he might risk losing control of the Climbers before he could bring about the completion of his mission. Is that what he's aiming for? Is he trying to trip me up? Pax thought, glaring at the dusky-skinned bookkeeper. The dusky-skinned bookkeeper stared back, placid and unthinking as a cow.

How the Abyss did my mission come to this? Roadblock after roadblock. All I had to do was kill some giants, but now two of my team is dead, there's an ocean of red tape between me and my goal and Marv is scared shitless he might randomly explode. I know one thing for sure: The Logistician definitely isn't going to survive this. Pax promised himself.

Pax stood by the window and passed the time watching the lines outside the tower continue to revolve, his fingers itching to stab someone if it would make things go even a few seconds faster. Over the last few days he might've developed a bad habit.

"You want something for lunch? The daily special is fish bakes." Badur asked as the deadline approached.

"Tea." Pax replied. Badur nodded and left, returning with a platter carrying some of the local desert tea along with baked buns that had steaming filling made of some kind of fish chowder. The meticulous man sat down, put his elbows on his desk and began taking massive bites of his food, causing crumbs and bits of filling to tumble onto the immaculate surface of the Logistician's workspace. Badur paused as he caught Pax staring, sliding the plate with the extra rolls closer.

"Want one?" Pax glanced over at Marv, who was sitting near the window, yawning from boredom, obviously not paying attention. That's not Badur. There's only three people on this Floor who could copy him to that extent, and two of them are my enemies. Hypnotize This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. 130 Charges Remaining.

"Don't move!" Pax shouted.

"Marv, that isn't-""DON'T MOVE!" Pax's own voice reverberated back at him, over and over again, gaining in pitch and speed until it became a head-splitting whine louder than any sound could possibly be, assaulting his very soul. Psychic Disperse 130->125 Charges remaining. Pax reflexively employed his psychic defense, and the chain between them was severed an instant before the feedback turned Pax's brain into jelly.

As Pax staggered from the psychic damage, Badur's fingers tug into the hardwood of his desk, turning into claws granting purchase as the skinny logistician morphed into something more feral.

"That's the fuckin' tangled!" Marv shouted, voice turning shrill as his sword whipped out of its sheath faster than Pax could blink. An instant later, the shapeshifter leapt forward, sending the heavy desk flying and shattering the bookcase behind it. Marv unleashed a blade of light that splashed off the charging monster an instant before it slammed into him, driving him through the wall of the tower.

"SHIT!" Pax shouted. That's Brianna Baker. Will gave one of the strongest abominations ever created… a psychic damage loop soft set. Because of course he did. It must convert charm abilities to psychic damage, loop it then feed it back to anyone who tries to control her. Badur undersold the danger! Why didn't it happen earlier when I used the damage chain to control all the citizens? Is she not a citizen or did the damage chain prevent me from being considered the origin of the effect?

In any case, she is definitely not under control right now. While Marv keeps her busy I'll…

"… Shit." Pax groaned as he spotted a feminine silhouette standing in the doorway. Pax immediately leapt through the hole in the wall, following Marv's exit, the Tangled monster's claws nearly catching his ankles. He grabbed onto a fist sized piece of anchorite floating outside the wall and used it to slow his descent and consider his options. The two lines of Climbers below stared back up at him with disinterest, incapable of questioning why a Climber had burst through their Lord's third-story office. That's it.

Pax wrenched on the floating piece of debris and launched himself further forward, narrowly escaping the Tangled monster's next lunge. He landed on top of one of the nearby buildings, tumbling to a halt. Above him, the tangled circled through the air like a vulture, brown wings sprouting from her back. Hands appeared above the edge of the roof as dozens more of the tangled crawled up onto the rooftop, blocking the path of retreat. Where is it? Is it a ring, or is it an amulet?

Rings and amulets were the most potent and also the easiest to wear in daily life. If it's an amulet I'm screwed. Right or left? Right or left? Command. Get a bladed weapon and await my orders! Pax slammed his fist down on the rooftop and collapsed the building, using the cover of the dust to sprint towards the opening to the main square. It was more exposed, but there were more people there under his control, which made it safer than ducking into an empty alleyway.

A half-dozen tangled leapt from the roof of the building after him, but were intercepted by Pax's thralls. Everywhere, he could see people wielding knives, swords and axes, vacanly waiting for their next instruction. I'll have to give up on taking the Stronghold without sacrifices. If this doesn't work I'll just have them stab their hearts. Cut off your right arm. As one, the citizens of the Burned Stronghold swapped the weapons to their left hand and began busily sawing or hacking away at their right arm.

The Tangled shrieked in pain as the distributed damage from thousands of climbers hacking away at their own arm hit them all at once. Just as he'd imagined, having every Climber perform the same type of damage at the same time allowed real damage to accrue. The Tangled's arm flew off at the same time as every other citizen of the Burned Stronghold. He could see that every Tangled chasing him was experiencing the same phenomena. That meant that the real body, wherever it was, was also missing a hand.

It fucking worked! Now let's make a gamble. Pax's knees strained as he shifted direction as quickly as he could, lunging past his meatshields toward the monster and putting a hand on her forehead. If this doesn't work, you're going to die, a small part of Pax's mind whispered, but it went unnoticed in the urgency of the moment. Hypnotize"Destroy the ring on your severed hand!" Pax tensed, expecting the reverberations to start immediately, but it didn't happen. I got it? A one in three chance and I got it!

"YES!" Eight Floors below, in Marksman's office, he was reviewing the much-delayed reports on the mission, sent by courier. Obviously, they couldn't use Brianna to send word instantly. The window to his office was open, letting the crisp breeze of the 2 nd Floor wash over him. The fireplace in the corner hissed and popped with expensive infinite firewood cultivated at great expense in the stomach of a Dimensional Oyster.

The empty chair across from his desk was pushed into the corner of the room, its spot replaced by a low table with a map of the Burned Stronghold on it that he and his men had consulted over till the evening. The radiant heat of the fireplace along with the bursts of cool air helped James focus as he read through Pax's status report. There seems to be some kind of damage-chaining infrastructure meant to safeguard the populace while William Oh is away.

He kept it a secret from his own logistician, so it caught us off guard. The Logicistician added the giants as citizens of the Burned Stronghold, so in order to kill them, we'd have to do enough damage to kill everyone. Since I know my lord wants the Burned Stronghold whole, we are currently searching for the object responsible for the damage chain and looking to destroy it.

This isn't all bad, because I have used the damage chain effect to gain control over the entire population, and now they are actively helping me fulfil your orders. James considered for a moment before pulling out a piece of stationary and penning his response. If you have not fixed the problem by the time you receive this letter, kill everyone. While it is true I would prefer the Stronghold whole, speed in accomplishing my primary order is more critical.

I would much prefer to be assured of a crippling blow to William Oh's power rather than risk losing everything I have worked for. I want those Giant's Relics. Whether you win or lose, the giants must die and I will have their remains. James folded the missive and sealed it inside a special envelope used by his intelligence team. Most Lords knew how Sets were created, whether that be because the Lord was particularly clever, or because their predecessor had passed the knowledge onto them.

The circumstances to create a set, however, were rare. It required a large number of thinking monsters of the same kind to die, either clustered together. Some said there had to be a tragedy that united them in death, some kind of story. James felt that was the mewlings of women and milksops.

James frowned as he turned his attention to his business profits, doing the simple accounting for his domain, his mind still chewing on the current situation even as his hand lined up credits and debits on a lined sheet of paper provided by his logistician. And here is William Oh, sitting on a set just waiting to be born, not doing a damn thing with it. Stupid Boy. He's even straining his own resources to feed the damned monsters. They're Gods damned MONSTERS.

Anyone as naive and trusting as William Oh deserved everything that happened to- Smells like blood. James froze, the scratching of his pen falling silent. The only sound was that of the cold wind coming through the window. There was now a masked man sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, a bloody tomahawk resting on his lap."' Sup?" William Oh asked. The room exploded.