TWELVE SKILLS

(+1 Awakening, +1 Body, +1 Mind, +1 Reaction, +1 Perception, +1 Empathy, +1 Magic)

It took you a while, but you finally did it. So, what’s next?

Cheeky as always, Dallion thought as he looked at the purple rectangle that flashed before his eyes.

In all honesty, he never believed he’d acquire that skill. Adzorg had mentioned that sometimes awakened acquired new skills after passing a gate. Since that hadn’t happened upon becoming a domain ruler, Dallion expected it never would, and yet his own “family” had managed to surprise him.

“Thank you, duchess.” He closed the box. “I did not expect anything of the sort.”

“That’s the strength of House Elazni,” she said. “We know what others want even before they expect it. The founder of our family granted everyone in her line the ability to reach high levels of music. Although she’s said to have been an impressive warrior, she was aware that some feats only music could achieve. Now, you must learn the same and when you do, you’ll find that you need no key to open the cage—others will willingly do it for you.”

The rest of the dinner passed in complete silence. If one concentrated, though, they could sense that while no verbal sounds were made, the emotions emanating from everyone constantly changed, forming something of a conversation.

Dallion was far from skilled in that discipline, but even he could follow the basic mood, even if not the nuances. That was impressive, to say the least, especially since everyone was wearing blocker items.

Close to an hour after the start, the duchess rose from her seat and left the hall, followed by her servant. The rest of the nobles waited until a few minutes after she was gone, then, in turn, left as well. In the end, only Dallion and one other remained.

“Leave us alone,” the noble said—the same one that had challenged Dallion for Harp.

“My apologies, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, Marquis,” Taem intervened.

The icy look that Tors gave him was enough to convey everything he was feeling.

“Grandmother made it clear,” the noble persisted. “There won’t be any fighting under her roof. Unless you consider verbal fighting fighting?”

“The young master has yet to learn the intricacies of etiquette and proper behavior.”

“Just leave. Even favorites can lose their standing.”

“I’ll be fine, Taem,” Dallion said, still remaining in his seat. “Nothing will happen here. We’ll be alright.”

The subtle use of “we” was meant as an insult, and it worked at least so much as to have an arrogant smile form on Tors’s face. This wasn’t one of the lowly fake nobles that Dallion had dealt with before. This one had actual power and, should circumstances have been different, was likely going to use it. In many ways, he reminded Dallion of Grym. That one was also eager to destroy Dallion, to the point of obsession. Had he survived Emperor Tamin’s mass attack, though? Chances were that he had evaporated into a sea of glass.

“Of course, sir.” Taem bowed, then left the dining hall along with the other servant.

Both nobles remained silent, waiting for the glass doors to shut. Dallion remained at the table, taking a sip of the remaining drinks nearby. As expected, they were something else, made exclusively for the palette of a noble. Anyone with a level beneath seventy would likely find it bland, as for the non-awakened—they’d likely mistake it for common water.

“I’ll save you the time,” Dallion said in the most relaxed manner. “You think I’m scum.”

“I think the entire line of your grandfather is scum,” the other said, adding elements of anger and sadness to his words. The execution was flawless, though the level of his music skills was lacking.

Probably a sixty, Dallion thought.

That had to be a sore point for the marquis. Although his level was well over eighty, he remained subject to local limitations… unlike otherworlders. Anyone with a sense of preservation would make note of that and never address it. Dallion, on the other hand, felt confident enough to do the exact opposite.

“Cute attempt.” He turned to Tors, glass still in his hand in the exact fashion that Ber used to hold it while presenting the city. “Already hit your limitation cap? That’s too bad.”

“Do you know what a marquis is?” Tors asked in an icy tone.

“Definitely beneath duchess.”

“You think she cares what happens to you? The only reason you are here is because of a Moon vow!”

There was no lie in his words.

“That weapon doesn’t belong to you. It was supposed to have remained in the House and given to the next in line.”

“You’re really weak at provoking, you know.”

All the emotions coming from Tors suddenly vanished. It wasn’t like the void, but rather an absence that indicated presence. Moving the fingers of his left hand, Dallion tried to cast a few spells to see through the layer, but each time he was about to complete the spell, it would fizzle.

Please don’t, a deep female voice said—the building’s guardian.

Sorry. Dallion relaxed his hand. He’s just getting on my nerves.

“I keep forgetting you’re an amateur,” Tors continued in a very different fashion than before. His primal anger had melted away, as had his open hostility. “Hunter, mage, soldier… Thinking that because you’re like the first emperor, you’d amount to anything more than a servant. Great grandma is nice towards you because she has to. All because of the dying request of your grandmother.”

Dallion felt anger and longing bubble within him like mentos in a soft drink. He also knew that if he let any of his emotion seep through, the other would win.

I could crush you like a cockroach, Dallion said to himself.

There were no limitations here. And while it was true that the area guardian wouldn’t allow for magic, that didn’t hold true should Dallion invade his cousin’s realm.

“The duchess wouldn’t like it if I harm you, cousin,” Dallion said. He knew that he had failed to block all of his emotions, but at this point, it didn’t matter.

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said. Leaving the capital will put our House at a disadvantage during the selection. You know that, but you’re reckless enough to try and gain the emperor’s favor. Don’t.” The marquis started his way towards the door. “I was hoping to have a longer chat, but you ruined the mood. Play your role, pretend you’re the hunter that’s eager to become an archduke. Just don’t play it too well or you won’t be the first to be banished to a third-rate city.”

That wasn’t a threat, it wasn’t even a warning; it was an explanation of how things ran. As much as Dallion felt insulted being told the obvious, he knew how things stood. For the moment, he was going to follow the rules and “reluctantly” play the part given to him.

“Tors,” Dallion said, just as the marquis had reached the door. “My grandmother. What do you know about her?”

“Who knows?” the other replied with an arrogant smirk. “Play your role and maybe I’ll tell you.”

Dallion suspected that wouldn’t be the case. Finishing his drink, he placed the glass on the table, followed by the earring. Instantly, he felt the connection to his realm restored.

Did you get any of that? Dallion asked his echoes.

No, Gen said. I’m not getting your thoughts even now.

Clearly, anti-magic wasn’t the only precaution within the room. There was no point crying over it. Besides, Dallion had memorized everything of importance.

“Master Dallion,” Taem said from the threshold. “We need to be going.”

Of course. Just as no one could refuse an invitation, guests couldn’t overstay their welcome. The duchess had said what she wanted to, which automatically meant that everyone was free to get back to their lives.

Leaving the palace was a lot less thrilling than entering it. Everything was set up in such a way as to display the power and grandeur of house Elazni, serving as a subtle reminder of what most wouldn’t reach.

“I suppose there’s no point in asking you?” Dallion glanced at Taem.

“About what, sir?”

“My grandmother.”

“Unfortunately, young master, my vow prevents me from discussing the matter without the duchess’ permission.”

Of course it would, Dallion grumbled mentally. While at lower levels, the gates were keeping him from obtaining information. Now that he had the traits, the skills, and the level necessary to know everything, it was a matter of Moon vows. The man didn’t seem to be lying, but that made the information all the more difficult. On the bright side, at least there were people who actually knew, and weren’t just erased by the Order of the Seven Moons.

The crowd near Dallion’s house had all but vanished. Like everything else in the imperial city, the wonder had lasted a few hours before being overshadowed by something else. In this case, Dallion kept hearing of several other neighborhoods switching to dryad style architecture.

“So much for remaining the center of attention, I guess,” Dallion said.

“You did better than the vast majority, sir.” Taem kept on walking. “Is there anything you prefer for dinner?”

“Dinner? I just came from one.”

“If you would pardon my stating the obvious, sir, but Duchess Elazni’s dinner events are not for feasting.”

You can say that again. “You know me well enough. Surprise me.”

“I shall make the arrangements at once, sir.”

“Oh, one more thing. Does the capital have an echo messaging service?”

“An echo messaging service, sir?” The man asked, almost in shock. “No, sir. The denizens of the capital don’t need to send letters to anyone outside. It’s the outsiders that want to come here. I suppose the Order provided a similar service, but as you know, they are unavailable at present.”

“Is there a rule against using magic?”

“In the capital?” Taem hesitated. “Generally, no. I would be cautious, sir. The overseers and the city guards might interpret things in an unflattering fashion, in which case they are sure to intervene.”

The message was clear: If Dallion were to use magic to attack anyone of significance, there might be issues. Still, it was better than nothing.

Leaving the butler to procure the food, since even the servants of high standing nobles didn’t tend to waste time with cooking, Dallion went to his home. It took a few minutes for him to find a suitable room. All the time, Vihrogon would explain what he had created, as well as the reason for his decision. It was starting to sound like going on a tour with an interior decorator. Finally, Dallion chose to settle down in one of the studies, where he focused on getting information on anything outside of the imperial walls.

It was outright amazing how comfortable people were with living in their bubble. As far as the great majority was concerned, nothing of significance happened “out there.” There was some gossip: the emperor’s latest victory, the reshuffling of external nobles and their territories, but on the whole, internal events were given a lot more importance. To top it off, the emperor wasn’t using limiting echoes, as they did in other settlements, but the people had done it to themselves.

Copying the message spell Katka had taught him, Dallion created a cloud message and sent it off. The first, of course, was to Euryale. The tone was highly civil—one noble congratulating another on their shared victory. If all fared well, she’d respond soon enough or possibly even come in person for a visit.

The second message was for Alien. Dallion enjoyed rubbing the archmage’s nose, mentioning a whole five times how grateful he and his new House were of the mage’s efforts. Naturally, that was followed by a few demands, including a request that all his belongings still at the Academy be transported to his new home, along with Diroh, who technically still remained his apprentice.

Once done, Dallion decided to go all out, sending magic letters to anyone he could think of. Several were sent to people in Nerosal, including a brief message to Hannah letting her know that he and Adzorg were alive and well. Most of his old guild got one as well, and even Cleric was offered a brief report on what was going on.

Only when it came time to write to the general did Dallion hesitate. His new position came with a lot of protections, but even that couldn’t do anything against a Moon vow.

“Your food is prepared, sir,” Taem’s voice came from one of the other rooms of the building. One of the advantages of having a high perception trait was that one could hear pretty much everything without the need of people shouting. “Additionally, it seems you would be having guests for dinner.”

Guests? Dallion wondered. From what he had seen, the people in the capital were anything but neighborly.

“Be right there,” he said, deciding to send a message to the general, after all.

Now it was time to see who his first guests were.