Chapter 58: Detective Work (2/2)
Jules closed the metal door of Croissant’s jail behind them, deep in the dungeons below the castle. “He isn’t speaking. His accomplices put him under a magical [Protection against Truth-Detection], and the caster’s level is higher than mine.”
“Vainqueur should be able to break it,” Victor pointed out. “He can cancel any spell short of Melodieuse’s nowadays.”
“That’s not the problem,” the ghoul replied.“I don’t think he knows, but they also put a [Death Curse] deadman switch should this protection be dispelled. The one responsible is probably an experienced Necromancer, from what I could gather. I would put their Spellcaster level at more than fifty; maybe sixty.”
Furibon? He had the power and the motive, but Victor doubted he was involved. From what he had gathered, the lich had learned the lesson and wouldn’t try to mess with them again. Which other Necromancer had a bone to pick with Vainqueur, or worked with someone who did?
Victor had a likely suspect in mind. “Will the curse activates if he speaks?”
“I do not think so, but he seems to hate you more than he fears His Majesty.”
Victor sighed. Between this and Miel being under arrest, this was looking more and more like a giant mess. Amazingly, Vainqueur had made the right call and not jumped to conclusions; the angel was many things, but a poisoner wasn’t one of them.
He heard steps coming towards them, turning around to see Allison, Chocolatine, and Barnabas. The troll carried a huge crate in his hands, while the werewolf had brought a casket full of food for her brother. Her eyes were red from the tears.
“You’ve tortured my brother?” she asked, worried.
“What? Of course not, torture never works.” Also, it was inhuman.
Unfortunately, she misinterpreted him. “You’re going to trap his soul in your scythe?! Or send him to Happyland?!”
Who did she take him for, Sauron? “We’re not going to do anything to his soul,” Victor said. “But he isn’t going to get out of that jail anytime soon.”
“But you’re the government!” Chocolatine protested. “Can’t you make a little exception for your girlfriend’s family?”
Come on, the fact they were a greedy dictatorship sponsored by Happyland did not mean they were corrupt!
“Please don’t kill him,” Chocolatine begged him, a far cry from her usual quirky and confident self, “I know he made a mistake, but I’m sure I can set him straight! I can set him straight…”
“I swear I’m not going to execute him,” Victor promised. Frankly, if it had been almost anyone else, the Vizier would have threatened to feed him to Junior already.
“Can I… can I talk to him?”
Victor didn’t see any reason to disagree. Maybe she could even get him to speak. “I’m here if you need it.”
She nodded in gratitude, but didn’t answer. He let her open the door to Croissant’s cell, and closed behind him to give them privacy.
“Girlfriend?” Jules asked, the Grand Vizier sighing, “Victor, you are the bravest man I know.”
Yeah, right. Seeing Chocolatine mortified after her brother’s arrest had made Victor rethink about his reaction. After getting used to her quirky usual self, he hated to see her sad; it awakened protective instincts he didn’t know he had.
“How is the situation?” Victor asked the newcomers.
“The fiends still want Miel's head, although Vainqueur cowed them into obedience for now,” Allison said. “The situation in town is tense, but there’s more. Someone attacked the farms tonight.”
Victor narrowed his eyes. “Continue.”
“Rolo noticed the guards protecting the livestock’s hens had been hypnotized into sleep, while wolves massacred the cattle,” the dryad explained. “What’s wrong is that, when, Rolo arrived to chase them, they transformed into mist before he could get close.”
“I have yet to meet a wolf breed capable of [Mistform],” Jules said.
“Vainqueur took the attack on his food supply personally and started patrolling the farms. I believe it reassured the population, for now.”
Victor suddenly noticed something wrong. “Why didn’t Charlene come to inform me?”
“Vic…” Allison cleared her throat. “Charlene is missing. She wasn’t at her house or at the office, and the kobolds haven’t found her yet.”
A chill went down Victor’s spine. “Any ransom demand, or hint of where she could have gone?”
Allison shook her head.
Damn!
“Do I hurry up and prepare to equip everyone for war, chief?” Barnabas asked, after having remained silent for a while.
“Yeah,” the Grand Vizier nodded. “What about my first order?”
“Work is done, chief,” said the troll, opening the crate to present his work inside.
Victor had ordered the troll to craft him a replica of his scythe, and a set of armor meant to synergize with his current classes. The final result was scary to behold, black plate armor with a tattered cape and a faceless, horned helmet. Barnabas had painted a crimson dragon on the torso, most probably to represent Vainqueur.
Hell Knight Armor
Quality: B+
Material: Soulsteel
Endurance: 50/50.
Protection: Physical +16/Magical +8
Weight: 16 kgs.
Bonus: +3 STR/+3 VIT/+10% Critical Damage/Auto-Regen/Unholy, Fire, Darkness and Curse Resistance/[Cursed] if wearer has good Karma.
A customized set of heavy armor once worn by the defunct order of the Hellknights (now rebranded as the politically correct Friends of Happiness); its steel has been infused with the boundless malice of a hundred debt collectors. Perfect for a dragon’s enforcer!
Speaking of Sauron, he wouldn't have disdained such armor; here died Victor's hopes of looking like a shining knight on a horse.
The scythe would be especially helpful against their enemy, for the Vizier had a pretty good idea who they were. Foes turning into mist in the dead of the night; fond of misdirection, surprise attacks meant to maximize terror, and hypnotism...
Vampires.
Croissant was right. Victor did let them in, invited these snakes to operate within their borders.
The Nightblades had come to Murmurin.