Tier 3+ - Accidental Champion (Book 7) - Chapter 34 - I Hate to Be a Hypocrite

“You look confused.”

Palini heard the voice behind him. Fear shot through his body like lightning. Every hair stood on end. There hadn’t even been a perceptible shift in the air to alert him of someone’s presence.

He turned. Slowly, for that voice, the shock, had frozen him. Never once in his hundreds of years of life had he responded to a threat without alacrity.

Xavier Collins, the dragonkin Palani had just killed and placed inside his Storage Ring, was standing twenty feet away, wearing identical black robes, holding an identical scythe-staff.

Palini’s awareness flowed into his Storage Ring. In his mind’s eye, he saw the Denizen’s corpse. It hadn’t been an illusion.

Yet here the man stood…

A clone spell? But clones dissolve upon death. The spells I know of, at least…

Palini opened his mouth but couldn’t utter a word. His mouth felt dryer than a desert with five suns hanging above it. He swallowed. Tried again. “How?” he rasped out.

There was a story he’d read once, a murder mystery—he was fond of those, came with his line of work. The two time dilation fields…

“A… A twin?”

Xavier smiled. “We all have our secrets, Palini Damascus. You don’t need to know the how to see the reality of your situation.” He tilted his head to one side, touched his neck, brushing the skin where wounds had been on the other Xavier. “Quite the move, that was. Can’t say I saw those bone claws coming.” He raised his scythe-staff, shifted it into a sword, then sheathed it in its scabbard. Looking at his hands, he grew claws of his own. Dark, sharp dragon claws. “Makes me want to keep fighting.” The smile turned giddy. He peered at Palini.

One eye silver, one eye red.

“See what else you can do.”

Not a twin. Palini stumbled back. Wouldn’t be so callous after the death of a brother. Unless he’s a monster… No, no. A twin makes no sense. He couldn’t have been in here. I brought one Denizen into Containment Room 238B… But… A portal? Could have slowed time, brought them in through a portal…

The dragonkin retracted his claws and sighed. “Before, I said I wouldn’t hold back anymore.” He shrugged. “I lied.” Xavier stepped forward. “Just wanted to see what you would do.”

Palini almost backstepped but stopped himself.

Mind of stone… Mind of stone…

The dragonkin disappeared. Hands clutched onto Palini’s head, fingers contracting with a strength hard to fathom. His skull creaked. Like his armour, he knew those fingers were capable of denting, breaking, bone.

“Intimidation, scare-tactics, beating you to a pulp, controlling your mind… These options are available to me, but they are not how I want to make friends, Damascus,” the dragonkin said, his words oddly calm. “But I need you to respect my position. I’ve been polite. Gentle. More than you deserve. You threw me in a cell. Tried to force me to sign a system-bound contract. I declined and you respond with violence. I turn the tables, show you’re vulnerable. You respond with violence. I give you a chance—” He sighed. “And you killed me.”

Palini was no coward. Had never been. Wouldn’t have gotten here if he was. But feeling the pressure of those fingers as they dug into his scalp, threatened to dig into his skull, hearing the calm of the man’s voice, only a hint of frustration evident, he didn’t fight back.

Didn’t know if he even could.

He hasn’t hurt me. Hasn’t hurt me once. And not because I’m better than him.

“That bone claw trick of yours was mighty clever.” The dragonkin leant forward, warm breath on Palini’s ear. “You saw my claws a moment ago?” His fingers twitched. “I like learning new tricks.”

Palini flinched.

“Do you understand the seriousness of your position now, Palini Damascus?” Xavier asked.

Palini swallowed. Mouth still desert-dry, hating himself for his fear, for the sheer powerlessness of his predicament. This man—this dragonkin—was a monster. A powerhouse.

True Progenitor… Gods I’m a fool.

He recalled what he’d said. Why he was travelling to the Ventorin sector.

To kill The Collector… And damn, he might actually do it.

“I’ll grant your request,” Palini said. “An audience with Sovereign Rewke Fouran. You’ll have it.”

Palini had only met the sovereign once. Technically, it wasn’t under his power to grant an audience with Orin’s ruler.

I’ll make it happen.

Fingers retreated from Palini’s head. The pressure eased.

“I hate to be a hypocrite, but can you assure my safety at this audience with a contract?” Xavier asked. “Since I already know you’re more than willing to kill me, it would be difficult to discern if this was simply a trap.”

Palini ground his teeth. “I’m an honourable man. I wouldn’t lie.” The words tasted like ash in his mouth. The thought of lying after he’d “killed” the dragonkin, of spinning a tale that strongly skirted the truth, had entered his mind.

I wouldn’t have done it, though. I’m an honourable man, he thought.

Though he wasn’t sure if he believed that anymore.

Palini signed the contract.

~

Xavier stopped himself from rubbing his neck as he was escorted through the hallways and stairwells of the Sovereign’s Satellite Fortress, Palini Damascus stalking ahead, ten members of Fortress Security trailing behind.

Gods, those claws hurt.

Switching himself out for one of his drones had been a last-minute decision. Even as he’d done it, he hadn’t been sure it was necessary. His drones weren’t anywhere near as powerful as him, but he didn’t need the drone to be powerful. He just wanted to see what Palini had up his sleeve.

That attack he’d used, displacing his hands the same way he’d displaced his sword, then growing those claws…

A part of Xavier’s mind had been inside the drone when that had happened, controlling it. That was always how he worked with his drones. The drones were much like the Arak drones. Mindless. Able to follow orders and not much else.

And so, he slipped a part of his consciousness into them.

He’d felt every bit of the pain of those ten claws digging into his neck. The speed of the attack, the fact it connected Palini to his time dilation field.

The drones were weaker than him, but still…

If it had been me standing there, that attack would have killed me.

Sheer arrogance had almost made him be the one standing there, playing with the man, intentionally slowing the time dilation field down so he could what, taunt the B Grade that wanted to “neutralise” him? Just to show he was better?

The switch had been easy. He’d made it after shifting his sword to a scythe-staff and his armour to dark robes. He hadn’t had any active drones, so he’d needed to cast Create Drone. Easy enough while time was practically stopped.

After his little sword fight was Damascus, he’d drawn up a spell pattern for Time Alteration inside the main hall, nice and hidden from sight. That spell pattern had governed the Roving Seed Base while he’d wrapped the already active spell around himself, then afterward around the drone.

That, however, made the drone move faster than him, as he couldn’t exactly separate it and wrap it around two people, making it impossible for him to actually maintain control over the drone and the field.

So he’d drawn a second Time Alteration spell pattern. Juggling three time dilation fields at once had been a strain, but it had been worth it. The clone of his robes and scythe-staff was easy enough—they weren’t the same items, just items made to look the same. He’d crafted a lot of lookalike armour and weapons of various types to outfit his drones for such a purpose, he just hadn’t used them in the Roving Seed Base because he didn’t want to confuse the others there.

Xavier hadn’t realised he’d be using one so soon, however.

There was a part of him that wondered if he should feel guilt about creating drones and putting them in situations where they were killed. The drones had souls, just as the Arak drones had souls—even if they were mindless. But guilt had never entered the equation. He wouldn’t have stolen the spell from the Arakashinai Queen if he weren’t willing to use it.

The drones were a tool. An extension of him. Nothing more.

The idea had once occurred to him to—with the aid of Time Alteration, Create Drone, and Pocket Time Stream to handle cooldowns—create a near endless number of souls to reap.

But something about that hadn’t felt right.

Tools they may be, but he’d not once reaped his drones’ souls.

It wasn’t long before the procession stopped in front of a large set of double doors. The walls of this place had all been grey stone, and thus far what doors he’d seen where made from hard—no doubt incredibly thick—steel.

Fortress was in the name of this place, and from what he’d seen that rang true.

Yet these doors weren’t made from hard steel, nor were they made from the grey stone of the walls. They were twenty-feet tall, made from wood that looked like oak, and they were not just old, but ancient.

Protection runes were inscribed all over the double doors’ surface, etched into the wood. Xavier was also able to perceive runes inside the wood.

The must each have been long layers of wood bound together, runes inscribed into the inner layers.

Runes weren’t the only thing on these doors. There were claw marks and deep gouges from blades. There were dents and dark patches where it had been burned. Marks marred the entirety of the wood, speaking of old battles this fortress had seen.

The left door had a crack than ran almost its full length.

“They’re from his old castle,” Palini whispered, noticing where Xavier’s attention was placed. “He had the doors brought with him to the fortress.”

“Why doesn’t he repair the damage?”

“I don’t know.” Palini frowned. “I’ve wondered about that myself.”

After a minute of waiting, the heavy doors creaked open. That creak could have been prevented. The doors could have swung inward in silence. Xavier wasn’t sure if the creak, like the doors, was some intentional theatre, or if it simply spoke to the character of the man behind them.

Sovereign Rewke Fouran stood alone at the end of a massive hall. The hall, like the rest of the fortress, was the same grey stone. No fires burned. The floor was not adorned with rugs or a long red carpet, nor did tapestries hang on the wall depicting past battles.

The hall was bare and cold.

A throne sat behind the man, but Sovereign Fouran stood apart from it. The throne, like the hall, was simple and unadorned. It wasn’t atop a dais up a steep set of stairs, but on the floor, as though to show he wasn’t above anyone he spoke to from it.

And yet he clearly was.

“Xavier Collins.” The voice filled the entire length of the hall without sounding too loud or forceful. It was calm, assured. “Welcome to the Orin sector.”

Xavier looked to Palini. The man did not look at him, nor did he lead him through the doors. He just stood there, waiting, staring straight forward. The ten members of Fortress Security did the same.

“Come. Enter. It’s not often I have an unannounced visit from an out-of-sector ruler. I’d say you’ve put me at a disadvantage, but your long walk from the lower levels gave me ample time to confer with my Intelligence Agency.” Sovereign Fouran raised an eyebrow. “Palini’s story is very, very interesting. Difficult to believe, really. Tell me, Palini, did you know this man’s world was integrated less only a couple of years ago? Their world is still under System protection.” The man chuckled. “From how white your face is, I’d say that knowledge escaped you.”

Palini cleared his throat. “Indeed.” He gave a slight bow. “I shall return to my duties, Sovereign.”

“You will enter along with Xavier, if you please.”

If you please. Xavier suppressed a smile. Palini had no choice in the matter. Xavier always found orders phrased in such ways to be curious.

Palini nodded, leading the way forward as he had through the halls. When they started crossing the grey stone floor, the marked doors creaked closed.