Chapter 916: Arc 9-27 (Geneva)

“Trust me, the Grand Summoner is going to change your lives.”

It wouldn’t do to appear too eager. Simple creatures like humanity never appreciated the things that came easily to them. They needed to understand pain to venerate love. A hunt made the eventual prize sweeter in direct proportion to the effort expended to secure it. A flawed mentality, reinforced by primitive instincts meant to motivate simple beings toward dominating their environment with crude methods. It made for hardy, adaptable creatures but it inevitably led to the dead end of no longer having anything to dominate aside from themselves.

That in turn created a society where individual power was valued over individual contribution. Power became something to be hoarded and there is no greater power than knowledge. Knowledge needs to move to live, stagnating in closed vaults and wilting when passed through whispers. A society of brutes without knowledge. That summed up the Harvest Kingdom succinctly. Thousands of pitiable souls, desperate to be more, easily exploited by anyone with a “shiny” temptation.

Really, her summoner would be doing the poor things a favor by conquering them. Lou claimed to be a bad ruler but in a month, she had done more for the people of her city than the royal family had done for the kingdom over generations. Though, truly, it was only a matter of time before they ruled the land. The succubi continued to accrue wealth and influence. Eventually, it would reach a level that could not be ignored. The humans would see Lou as their leader in everything but name. Then, one of two things would happen. They would naturally supplicate themselves or they would resist and be subdued.

Either way, Lou would naturally rise to her rightful place at the top of the species she still claimed. Geneva had long discarded the possibility of her summoner fleeing to the provinces; if a dragon wasn’t enough to induce blindness regarding the kingdom’s troubles, nothing would be. The poor girl’s burgeoning altruism ran deeper than she thought. Which was incredibly amusing, given Lou’s disdain for goodwill. Of course, when it wasn’t directed at her. Then it crumbled Lou’s walls faster than siege weapons.

It was almost endearing, one of the cuter weaknesses Geneva had seen in an unfathomably powerful being.

Yes, Lou was well on her way to dominating the continent. And Geneva would be right beside her, naturally assuming her burdens. That was only the beginning. Once she assumed power, it would be impossible to hide. The truly interesting powers of the world would take notice.

But for now, they had to deal with the little powers. No, that was giving the bloodthirsty weasels far too much credit. They were an infestation, disgusting things crawling in the underbelly of Lou’s first foray into conquest.

Ah, well. It wasn’t the first time Geneva had played exterminator, and it wouldn’t be the last.

It also wasn’t the first time she’d used herself as bait. It barely took a thought to transform her features into hesitance, though her eyes betrayed her longing. “I’ve heard of the Grand Summoners. You all are a new guild, right? What would they want with us?”

Her target, unworthy of a name, smirked, the curl of his lips full of condescension. It didn’t help that he spoke to her chest. Which was convenient, as it allowed her to continue making eye contact with his date. A wink was enough to renew the woman’s flustered blush.

“Well, sorta, but not really.” A thousand cutting remarks flashed through the succubus’ mind to answer the man’s eloquence. “Guild’s a group and that’s what we are, but we’re not hunters and we don’t work for a bunch of old idiots who don’t know nothing. Or sleep in the dirt for coppers. We got power for ourselves. We do what we want.”

Geneva understood why many human organizations had strict doctrines; if left to their own devices, a group of a thousand different interests would get nothing done. The little thing thought bragging about its freedom was impressive. She doubted his mind could comprehend the power of being a single part in a great whole.

“They pay you…to do what you want?”

Her voice practically dripped with sarcasm, but she softened it with a nervous giggle. A replica of every girl who knew a man was exaggerating but letting him continue because she was enjoying herself.

“I mean, work’s work, you know? We have to do jobs to get paid, but sometimes you get paid in power.” He raised his arms, flexing well defined muscle. “I’m as strong as a knight. Probably stronger and guess what? None of the work. Forget sweating your ass off for years. Magic can make you fast and strong in the blink of an eye. No wonder rich nobles always look good, eh?”

“I’d kill for that,” she whispers, gently tracing one of his arms. She could practically feel his lust from the action, his words failing him as he licked his lips like a hound eyeing a bone.

“So would I.” On the other side of the carriage, the woman tempted by gold turned away from her target, turning big eyes on the colder partner. “But do we have to fight?”

“No,” the partner said. He had been nervous as he let the strange women board the carriage a second time, but the rampant greed on display soothed his suspicions. Most of his displeasure was an act anyway. They had standing orders for recruitment; Callan wanted to expand his cult as fast as possible. “You can be whatever you want.”

“Even…” The woman cupped her average bust. The action even managed to distract Geneva’s target from ogling her, though she quickly fixed that by crossing her legs, the movement bringing his attention back.

“Anything and everything.”

“And that’s just the start!” the target said excitedly. “Summoning’s the real deal. It’s magic, but something else does it for you. Whatever magic you want.”

“Your talent doesn’t matter,” his partner continues, his eyes gleaming with the embers of passion, the sparks that could one day bloom into true fanaticism. “Your birth, your wealth, your lack of education. All of it can be overcome in a single moment.”

“That sounds too good to be true,” the shy woman muttered.

She was right. The claim was too good to be true. If anything, an elemental cared more about talent, birth, wealth, and education than any human. For most creatures, they felt an inherent familiarity with their fellows. It didn’t mean they would treat them well, but there was an understanding there, whether it was appreciated or not.

To an elemental, their potential summoner was nothing until they proved themselves.

“Well, you better believe it! The Grand Summoner has helped a bunch of people make contracts.”

“But not you two?” Geneva inquired innocently.

“Nope! I’m waiting. Stronger I am, the better contract I can make. I’m going to get something like King.”

“King? Your group has a royal?”

“The King of Beasts,” the partner corrects, tone full of admiration. “Vanity King. The Grand Summoner’s elemental. Claws like blades and impervious to any weapon. It could fight an army and win.”

The foolish things spoke back and forth, feeding each other hopes and dreams, their delusions growing with each word. Geneva let them prattle, stoking their excitement with questions, touches, and heated glances. All the while, she listened to their minds, carefully gleaming information. The name and faces of those who had been touched by this creature of a hundred hands. Those who had formed contracts and their elementals. Other meeting locations. The face of the man they reported to when doing the group’s unsavory work.

By the time the carriage came to its second stop of the night, the humans were giddy with excitement. The next building they entered was a far cry from the cheery bar. It stood at the edge of the MZ, away from the lights and crowds. The buildings in the area were taller, made of dark stone and heavy beams of wood. Functional buildings with square doorways and shuttered windows.

Two men stood watch. They recognized her targets, though they frowned as they waved the boys in, eyes tracking the strange women accompanying them. Geneva ducked her head as she pulsed one of her staple spells. Their thoughts drifted to her like leaves following the current of a river; the guards didn’t like the boys compromising the location of the meeting, but Callan had sanctioned it. It wasn’t the first time and if the women proved untrustworthy, their melder was always in need of more sacrifices.

Callan had truly lost his mind, an outcome that wasn’t wholly unexpected. She’d known he was unstable from the start. Thankfully, Lou hadn’t ordered her to better the man, merely to give him purpose. In time, the summoner would learn to take care of her tools better. For all her power, she hadn’t even seen her first millennium, not even her first century. Lou was but a babe to the true powers throughout the realms. Like a babe, she had to be taught to take care of her toys.

Geneva would gently coax her through her clumsy tantrums until then, making the most of her half-baked schemes. The Grand Summoners could have been an effective tool. Used the right way, they could have changed the kingdom, no, all of humanity. But their ultimate fate would be that of bait.

Eliminating the rebels removed the hunters unable to look beyond their grudges or accept Lou’s help. The remaining criminal elements and men of unsavory character? Lured by the sweet song of Callan’s promises. When they were finished here, New Quest would be as free of crime as any settlement could hope to be while maintaining the independence of its residents. With their extensive charter in place and the unambitious fanatics guarding it, it might even remain so for a decade. Long enough for Lou to become more comfortable with the idea of holding power over others.

While part of her mind ruminated on her plans for Harvest once she inevitably controlled the kingdom, another chatted with the clueless humans that had invited her into their midst, replying to their vapid comments with similar drivel. Another part mapped the bar room, cataloguing the forces of the Grand Summoners. A threat assessment, though they could hardly be called such.

Callan’s bait of easy power predictably lured the powerless. She could tell they were physically better than most residents of the city, many of their tops sleeveless and cropped to show off their new physiques, but there was no skill behind the power. If she had less control, her lips would have twisted into a sneer as a drunk man shattered his mug, the other men at his table slapping his shoulders as if his lack of control was something to be celebrated.

The group would make for terrifying bandits but beyond that? She imagined even the pitiful knight orders of the kingdom would be enough to decimate them, tactics and common sense overcoming the gap in power.

But there was one curious element, something someone in a weaker position would see danger in. That was the location itself. It was large, discreet, and sturdy. From the area, she would have predicted that it was an abandoned building the summoners had patched up, but it was too clean, too well-stocked. This was already a meeting place for those who liked to lurk at the edge of bright lights. Those who didn’t like too many eyes on their activities. Someone with the money to build such a place; the Zone was popular and no property within the magical effect was cheap.

Callan’s group was starting to attract those with money and influence.

She didn’t think that those who planned to remain in New Quest were brave enough to test Lou so soon after the destruction of the city, but what of the travelers who had been trapped in the Golden Feathers because of the battle? Merchants and minor nobles who lingered to watch the dust settle, vultures in search of corpses to pick at.

Perhaps Callan wasn’t a fool who didn’t care for the future.

Perhaps he expanded so quickly to show proof of concept to those with real power. People who could turn the fledgling group into something to be feared.

If so, the idiots in front of her were liabilities. Pawns. Scapegoats? Distractions as he slipped away into the night?

“Hey, quiet down!”

She wouldn’t have to wait for long to find out. On the far side of the room, a procession of broad-shouldered men and serious women, armed and armored, emerged from a discrete entrance, fanning out to form a loose wall before the crowd. As conversations died and merry eyes became more alert, the man himself entered the room.

He was much the same as the first time the succubus had laid eyes on him: tall, lean, and plain. Dark, sharp eyes and darker hair combed back over his wide forehead. Thin lips pressed in a serious frown and a long nose. A generous person would say he had a severe face, like a bird of prey. A condescending opinion would liken him closer to the pinched features of a rodent. Either way, unflattering.

His poor fashion choices didn’t help. The fabric was rich and the embellishments grand, but they fit poorly, the sleeves of his jacket folded up and the legs of his pants showing his ankles. It gave the impression of a costume designed for someone else, with Callan being the understudy forced to shrug it on at the last minute. Or perhaps a child trying on the clothes of his father.

Anyone trusting their fates to such a figure was embarrassing. And yet, there were plenty willing. The young woman at his back watched him with especially devoted eyes, scampering after him with a bright gaze and a poor attempt at a serious frown. Her flawless skin, silky hair, and full figure suggested a wealthy upbringing, but she had none of the class that came with nobility. Another touched by the physical affinity.

Geneva blinked to hide the glow of her eyes as she cast her spell, soaking in the thoughts in the room. Ah. The rumored Fey. She looked nothing like a waif raised on the streets of Quest, further proof of her transformation. This was the one who had tied her fate to the red terror feasting on the idiocy of humanity. How careless of them, bringing such a precious resource out in the open. She supposed this Arrbutor must not be too picky, otherwise they would guard its contractor more zealously than their wives and children. This red melder was the key to their future after all. But if it was intent on raiding this world for pliable meat, killing the summoner was a useless endeavor.

They would have to stop the nascent disaster at its source.