Chapter 1708 (1/2)
Don Beigon stood at the Beigon Estate’s observation tower and looked down across his precious home with a frown.
There were three entrances to the Beigon Estate, which any party could approach depending on their tier of citizenship within the Nexus. Obviously, the Tier 1 Citizenship entrance was the most grueling, requiring individuals to use their physique and Willpower to reach the top in a certain amount of time, because they would be forcefully repelled back to the bottom every twenty-four hours. Meanwhile, the Tier 2 Citizenship entrance was just a long path, requiring all individuals to travel both a certain distance and spend at least a half-hour on that path, to make sure all those who approached had firm resolve.
Don Beigon didn’t believe that people should be able to make casual trips to see his kingdom. They had to earn the privilege.
Meanwhile, the third entrance was rather perfunctory. There were no special requirements to using it. Obviously, individuals who had managed to accumulate Tier 3 Citizenship were powerful in their own right. They did not need to frivolously visit Don Beigon. Or perhaps more accurately, they would not dare come to Don Beigon unprepared or without the proper payment.
They knew his reputation too well.
The third entrance let the applicants come directly out into the open Courtyard of the Sun. They would arrive on a breezy marble platform and could spin around to look at the riot of orange, red, and yellow that blazed in every direction. Specially Engraved arrays released tongues of flames in different shades that curled and bloomed like a meadow of flowers. The arrivals stood as a boat in a sea of flame, properly understanding the power and majesty of the Beigons.
The only downside was the heat of such a display, but powerful individuals could easily ignore that point.
However… Don Beigon’s mouth twitched.
During the night, someone had come and somehow spliced soil onto that arrival platform. Now, blue and white lilies fluttered in the hot breezes, protected by an image that had been forcefully inserted into the Beigon Estate. The presence of these flowers was a direct challenge to the Don’s image.
Even worse, the words read: I will never give up on my love for you, Claudette.
Normally, the natural array of the Beigon Estate would steadily overwhelm this transgressor and burn these annoyingly colored flowers to ash. But the Don could smell the work of Commandant Wick here, utilizing some strange principle he no doubt learned from fighting against the Nether King to fool the Don’s image. The Beigon Estate didn’t even recognize the intrusion.
The cool colored flowers taunted the fiery blossoms.
Randidly Ghosthound… Don Beigon reached up and rubbed his chin. His jaw clenched as he thought about that boy’s clear emerald eyes. Word will get out about this. No matter who is truly responsible, you will be blamed. You must take responsibility. But… I just cannot tell whether you are a pawn or something even more dangerous…
“Fellador,” Don Beigon said suddenly. There was a rustling behind him and a pale-skinned humanoid appeared in a kneeling position with his face covered in a tight wrapping of black linen.
“Don. Your orders?” Despite how thin the humanoid wrapped in black cloth was, his voice was low and rumbling.
“Find and track Randidly Ghosthound. Inspect where he goes and who he talks to. And… make trouble for those people he meets. Light trouble. Nothing deadly. But I want the boy bothered.” Don Beigon eyes glittered. Fellador didn’t bother to respond. He simply bowed his head and vanished.
*****
Helen sniffed the leather gloves with a gloomy expression. “What the hell is this…?”
Randidly paused then forced a chuckle as he took the gloves from Helen. There were bits of melted, calcified, and worn black crust all over the gloves. Even he felt slightly squeamish when he looked at the gory surface. “...those are actually mine. Why don’t you take this pair of gloves?”
Those tiny bits on the gloves were the stubborn remains of Randidly’s stint as an exterminator. And the leather and metal still smelled like a weird mixture between burnt hair and baked ant. The clean gloves Helen accepted with a little more willingness, but she still hissed out a breath when she latched the material and the Engravings activated. She waved her arms with a frown on her face. “Shit. What a weird feeling. Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Randidly nodded. “You are having trouble exploring your Depths of Horror Domain, yea? Well working in an area where all images are suppressed will definitely increase your sensitivity. And control, slightly.”
“No, not that,” Helen shook her head. “You said… the individual who owns this farm is… slightly surly?”
“Yea, well,” Randidly reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. It had been three days since Randidly had returned from his meeting with Commandant Wick, two and a half days since Claudette had sent him a message that said, ‘Well now you’ve certainly gotten my dad’s attention off of me and onto you. Thanks.’
During that time, Nrorce’s usual mutterings had become increasingly bitter. Even worse, he occasionally disappeared for whole days at a time, locked within the deepest room of the slightly sunken cabin. And even after Nrorce came out, it would take several hours before the goblin could shake off his lethargy enough to cook food.
Rather than addressing his own problems, the blue-skinned goblin had taken to berating Randidly with his spare energy. His requirements for his daily work had rapidly increased in complexity. Which did give Randidly a much better understanding of how the farm functioned, as he hauled enormous bags of seed and rotated the crop type, but the sheer volume of tasks suddenly thrown on his plate meant that Randidly couldn’t accomplish them in the day without completely vaporizing the suppressive Engravings on the gloves.