Bog Standard Isekai-Chapter 48Book 4.

"Maybe?" Brin said.

He was more interested in figuring out how to help Marksi. He stroked the dragonling's scales, careful to avoid any of the scratches and scrapes, and tried to think of what he could do. He wasn't sure if he should pick him up and run to get help, or if moving him would make things worse. When he tried to use their bond to feel what Marksi was thinking, he got the impression that Marksi would be fine. His instincts told him that Marksi's minor shapeshifting ability was helping him heal here and that all Marksi really needed was rest.

But could he trust that? He didn't really know how their bond worked, only that [Blessing of the Hidden Guardian] said they had one. What if he was just imagining things?

Brin decided to trust his instincts for now, but he still worried.

Cid took his sword and started carving into the hound, looking for the core. He made a mess of it, though; they'd always left this type of thing to either Anwir or Cowl and it wasn't as easy as it looked.

"Not there," Brin said. "It'll be behind the naval."

"Where is the naval on a dog?" Cid asked.

"Closer to the hips, I think," said Brin.

Cid worked at an awkward angle because he clearly didn't want to get any more blood than he had to on his clothes. He turned the poor beast into a pile of hamburger, but after fifteen minutes he finally found the odd, stonelike beast core they were looking for. It was closer to where he'd started looking in the first place, just below the heart.

Brin used the time to snoop around a bit more with his Invisible Eyes, and luckily there were no new vampires around to snack on his magic. That meant he had free rein of the top few floors.

It looked like the two floors above his current one were Lord Mordelet's personal residence, judging by the quality of the floors and walls, and from the way there was expensive pipework for a bathroom. There was also a kitchen nearby, connected to the servants’ hallways, which also spoke to the idea that someone rich lived here, but he couldn't know for sure, since everything had already been moved out; only the furniture that the vampire had been using remained.

The living quarters did have windows, which shot down Brin's burgeoning theory that Zintiun was actually Lord Mordelet, or that Mordelet himself was a vampire.

The top of the tower was a grand ballroom with another larger lift leading to a waiting room. Both the ballroom and the waiting room had been stripped down, and he didn't seen anything that might give them answers to any of their many questions. How long had that vampire been here? Had he been sent here by Lord Prima, or had he been living here before that?

No answered questions, but he did find one thing. The waiting room near the ballroom still had a beautiful glass chandelier, made of tremendously expensive glass. He couldn’t project his glass senses through an Invisible Eye, but from what he could see, it was better than the glass Brin made. The high level [Glasser] that made it would have been aiming for beauty and luster, but that didn't mean it wouldn't also be strong and take well to magic. He wanted it.

"Hey, so um, what are your opinions on..." Brin didn't want to say stealing. What was the [Knight] word for this? "...on claiming spoils?"

"I entered this house unarmed under a banner of truce, and then I was assaulted by a vampire. We have pillage rights. Why? Did you find something good?" Cid answered.

That hadn't been the answer he'd been looking for, but he was happy to go with it. "Not much. Lord Mordelet's things are all long gone, probably before anything else in the tower. But there is a pretty nice chandelier..."

Cid laughed. "Go grab it. I'll stay here with Marksi."

Brin ran up the stairs, not loving all the cardio after the intense fight with the vampire. If he had thought of it, he could've had Cid and Marksi come up with him, and then they could all take the lift down.

He found the lobby with the chandelier, and it was even more stunning in person. The glass sparkled, seeming to glow brighter than the light coming in through the windows.

Not all of it was made of glass, unfortunately. The frame was made of silver, but the chandelier was huge so there was enough glass to make the trip up here worth it. He reached out to pull the glass down, and felt a clash of the Wyrd.

The glass resisted his pull, insisting that it didn't belong to him. It belonged to the master of the house, and that wasn't him. He created his own argument, borrowing from what Cid had just told him about pillage rights, and this time the glass yielded easily. It was a good thing that Cid had told him that; without that factor in his argument this glass would have been nearly unusable.

Now that it accepted his claim, it responded to his magic the way that butter responds to a microwave and dripped down onto him from the ceiling. He could tell at once that this glass was on another level; it wasn't enchanted for anything but had a purity and quality that made it resonate with his magic even better than his Bog Standard spear.

This was perfect. He could use this with Morphic Glass as a sort of multitool, and not have to risk messing up his spear.

He pulled it all into a globe and thought about what to do with it. Even though the majority of the chandelier had been made of silver and other materials, there was still a good amount of glass here; too much to easily carry around.

Armor, maybe?

Main: run Ironman_ver2.1

Task Manager: Forming glass armor

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His Task Manager spun up a flurry of directed threads to from the chandelier glass into a full set of armor. He’d created this program with the intention to summon new glass if he was caught somewhere without armor, but the directed threads adapted well to using existing glass instead.

The glass ball separated and shot into separate pieces with a speed that caught Brin off guard. In the time it took him to lift his feet so that the boots could slide into place, his armor was done.

It looked strange, all transparent and glossy, so he spun up a directed thread to make it gray and metallic-looking with light magic. He could change the tint and color with [Shape Glass], but he didn't want to mess with the chandelier glass just yet.

He started walking and it felt a little weird, especially the boots. They sounded weird, too, clicking on the floor until he fixed that with sound magic. He was ready to go.

When he got back down to Cid and Marksi, the Prime looked at him and nodded. "Good thinking. One of us should be wearing armor on the egress; I don't know how things are going to play out when we leave this place."

"True. What do you think happened here? Was the vampire working for Mordelet or High Lord Prima?" asked Brin.

"We don't have enough information to venture a guess. What do you know about High Lord Prima?" asked Cid.

"Nothing but the name. He's a High Lord so he's not landed, and he gained his position through merit rather than inheritance," said Brin.

"In his case, it's both," said Cid. "He's High Lord by appointment and a Count by birth."

"He's also a member of the High Council, which I'm starting to learn is the real ruling power of Prinnash," said Brin. He knelt down and examined Marksi while they talked. It looked like the bleeding had completely stopped, and when Brin checked under the bandage on the big gash in his side even, he found a new layer of skin, though it was growing up from underneath rather than scarring over the top.

Cid said, "The real ruling power of Prinnash is 'every man for himself.' This place is hardly more than a loose coalition of baronies and counties. That should work in our favor, though. Knightly Orders have a lot of sway since we can operate across borders. Trading houses and mercantile groups are the same," said Cid.

"Like the Wogan Group? Wait, is Sion kind of important?" asked Brin.

Cid rolled his eyes. "The Wogan's High Lord Damisco is a member of the High Council, and there are five others who represent [Merchant] companies. Then there are Prima and two others who represent the nobility, and three who are loyal to the [King]."

"That's six against six. Is... Sancta Solia, is Prinnash on the verge of becoming a Merchant Republic?"

Cid shrugged. "That's hardly our concern."

"Which side is for the war and which is against?" asked Brin.

"It's not an even split, but High Lord Prima is one of the loudest voices against," said Cid. "But let's not get sidetracked. All I know for sure is that a vampire wanted this town evacuated; therefore, I oppose that plan. We need to talk about next steps. As soon as we walk out that door, whoever was planning on letting us die to the vampire is going to notice that we're still alive and move to their backup plan."

“Should I make us invisible, then?” asked Brin.

“No. If someone sees us and tries to slip away, that’s how we’ll know that they know something.”

Brin nodded. "I'll keep my invisible eyes everywhere."

"Good. Go after anyone who runs. Meanwhile, I want to talk to the servants who barricaded themselves in that room again, and the [Steward]. Once I'm done there, I'll head down to the bottom floor to confront the [Herald]. Try to meet me there."

"Yes, sir," said Brin.

"Then let's go. Oh, one last thing. What do we do with him?" Cid nudged a sleeping Marksi with his foot.

"I'll take him," Brin said, crouching down.

"No, you might need to go quickly. I'll take him," said Cid. He hesitated before touching the sleeping dragon. "If that's agreeable to you?"

Marksi gave a faint grunt of acceptance.

Cid picked him up and rested Marksi on his shoulders, the tail wrapping around to make him look like an exotic scarf.

He posed for Brin, one foot forward like a fop on a promenade.

Brin gave him a thumbs-up. "You're pulling it off."

Cid grinned. "I know it."

"You want a mirror?"

"That won't be necessary."

They opened the door. At the bottom of the stairs, out of sight of plain vision but not at all hidden to Brin, crouched the [Steward]. At the sight of Brin and Cid, he took off running.

"That's my cue," said Brin.

The chase was on.

The man tore down the stairs like they were on fire. He moved as fast as a [Rogue] and Brin would've lost him immediately if not for his invisible eyes. The floorboards seemed to jump up just in time to push him along. After going down two flights of stairs, he jetted across the floor towards the other staircase. Doors flew open to let him through and people stepped out of his way just in time for him to get passed.

Brin [Inspected] him. His name was Iver and he was only level 25, but as a [Steward] he would be in charge of the house, and people were always stronger in their domain.

He ran down after him, using the glass of his armor to propel himself, but the gap between them widened. Floorboards bounced just in time to try to trip him, and every door he got to slammed in his face. He got to the point where he anticipated it and leaned his shoulder down to break through them, but he didn't feel good doing that with the people who kept getting in his way. He lost time dancing around them.

He started putting sound magic into his footsteps making them boom with each step. Now the servants saw him coming and jumped out of his way. It had the added benefit of connecting with Iver's magic in the Wyrd.

I won't hurt you. I just want to talk. I want to help this house's true master, Lord Mordelet. I fear something bad happened to him.

The resistance of the house lessened drastically, and Brin started to catch up, but they were nearing the bottom of the tower, only the third floor now.

Iver got to a trapdoor that opened up to a tunnel with an iron ladder heading to the basement below the tunnel. He glided down the ladder, and it folded itself behind him so that Brin couldn't follow.

He got to the trapdoor just as Iver hit the floor, but the ladder was gone. Brin tried to keep his legs and arms on both sides of the narrow passageway and it worked for about three seconds, but his boots were too smooth and he slipped and fell.

Reacting to his instincts faster than thought, the chandelier glass moved from his head to his hand, forming a claw. He grabbed the wall again and gouged into the wooden walls of the passageway, slowing his fall.

There was a crack as his glass boots hit the ground and he felt a jolt of pain in his ankles. Thankfully, he'd slowed his fall enough that neither of them were sprained or broken. He changed the chandelier glass back into a helmet and moved to follow Iver through the tunnel. This time, he silenced himself and waited for his moment.

It didn't take long. Iver approached an area of the tunnel where it turned at a ninety-degree angle. With a simple application of light magic, Brin made it appear as if the tunnel came to a dead end.

When he got close enough to see Iver with his natural eyes, Iver had set a candle on the ground and was running his hands along the stone in front of him.

Whoops, better put a stop to that. Brin stepped into the light and cleared his throat.

Iver spun around and cowered against the wall.

"Relax, I'm not here to hurt you. Actually, I want to help you. I just have a couple questions," said Brin.

"I don't know anything," said Iver.

"In my experience, [Stewards] know everything. What's going on here, Iver? Where's Lord Mordelet?"

"I told you I don't know," said Iver.

"Then let me tell you what I know. I know that I found a vampire lounging in his chair and drinking his wine, and as for the man of the house himself, there's no sign. But you're still here. Tell me, what's the punishment in Prinnash for a servant who betrays his master?" asked Brin.

"I've betrayed no one," hissed Iver. "Everything I've done has been on Lord Mordelet's command."

"Is he even still alive?"

"He's alive. I would know if he were not," said Iver.

"Then where is he?"

Iver sighed and put his head in his hands. "Lord Mordelet left for a private meeting with individuals he didn't name, but never returned. That was two weeks ago. By letter, he ordered the house to empty and commanded us to obey Lord Zintiun. The [Herald's] command to evacuate the city also came from him. I have Skills to verify it."

"High Lord Prima kidnapped Mordelet and forced him to turn over his city," said Brin.

"It... it looks that way," said Iver.

"Now for a tougher question. Why'd you let me walk right into a vampire's den without warning?" said Brin.

"Was it too much to hope that you might slay the beast?" Iver said.

That rang false. Answering a question with a question was one way to get around the truth-detecting Skills that Brin didn't have. "And why did you run?"

"Now that Lord Mordelet's chosen proxy is no longer with us, I must return to him for further instruction. He'll be in Gonwy, surely."

This guy knew more than he was saying, but Brin didn't have the time or resources to get more out of him. He leaned down and Iver flinched, but Brin simply pinched out the light on Iver's candle. Then in the darkness, he turned and strode back to the castle.

His Invisible Eyes told him that Cid had completed his interrogation of the servants and that they didn't know anything. They didn't know what they were hiding from, didn't know that Zintiun was a vampire, and didn't remember him feeding on them. It appeared that few people had the mental resistance to even realize when they were prey to a vampire. At least they confirmed the timeline; Zintiun had arrived just under two weeks ago.

Brin sent messages to the rest of the Lance to tell them to stop what they were doing and meet them at the fort.

Brin met Cid at the bottom floor just behind the main doors. He still had Marksi on his shoulders, and he held Zintiun's severed head. It was pale white, a ghastly statue, and the fangs were prominent. There was no hiding what this was, even without [Inspect].

When everyone was in position, Brin opened the doors and went through, Cid right behind him.

Cid shouted, with Brin projecting his voice. "Treachery! Treason! A vampire is found in Lord Mordelet's home! In the name of the Order of the Long Sleep, I'm hereby ordering a stoppage to the evacuation of Canibri!"