《Silhouette》Chapter 134 : Runic recycling

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When James felt his senses fuse with those of Solvent, he was somewhat relieved that at the very least the doppelganger was still where he had ordered them to stay, Runar's former headquarters. The five-story-tall building had been heavily shaken and weakened by the battle between Silhouette's forces and the goons of the runemaster, with many cracks appearing all over its surface and ruining the many enchantments within. Frankly, James wouldn't have been surprised they'd have to abandon the place before it would come crumbling down a few days after the fact, that is until he remembered his ability to somewhat manipulate and fuse materials touched by his shadows.

The process took two days of work, and he had to make sure to keep some rune specialists nearby at all times to avoid damaging anything vital to the structure's integrity or that could cause a gigantic magical explosion, but by the time he was done, the building was repaired and even somewhat solidified, offering a much better foundation for the enchantments meant to improve it, such as the magical shield that had once struggled to keep the burst of infectious darkness that had launched the hostilities for the final battle. Sadly Runar himself, despite being heavily infused from what James could tell from what he felt from his soul space, had vanished without a trace, meaning the vast knowledge of the runemaster was lost for now, leaving him with only the most talented of the scribes who spent their days either creating magical products en masse or maintaining the existing enchantments.

In other words, the upgrades to the building itself were great, but the decrease in the quality of the enchantments that ran all over and inside it combined into an overall result that was only marginally better than the original structure the magical gang leader had used. And, unlike the man with elven ancestry, James didn't have a bunch of superpowered people to keep an eye on it at all times. Were a group as strong as the one he had led attacked now while he was away, they'd likely be able to win and take over. Luckily, fights of this scale rarely occurred in these parts of the slums. Not only because of the Black Bank nearby, but also because such major conflicts meant one of the opposing sides was guaranteed to be wiped out, and the local gangs cared way too much about their survival to risk it. Plus, no one outside of James' trusted group knew the exact scale and strength of their whole... Organization? Team? Enterprise? Whatever the name, to the rest of the world they were complete unknowns, too mysterious, creepy, and effective to risk angering for now.

At least that was the plan. Solvent's call was obviously a sign something was going on.

His mental connection to the Infused was hard to describe. When it came to telepathy, it wasn't something as simple as a voice echoing in one's head as it was often simplified in media, even here on Terra Stellis. No, it was something much more primal, something that went beyond words and tones. It was about raw emotions, hidden meanings, an individual's history, and the fusion of different people's understanding of the world until one singular idea could be shared.

So, it wants anything that could be verbally transmitted that reached James' mind when Solvent felt him focusing on them, but if anything it was something much more effective at letting him get the gist of things.

Beneath the black dome that covered the sky and offered much more privacy than Runar's usual set-up, on the flat roof that had long ago become an office opened to the air, comfortably yet intimidatingly placed in the seat that marked them as the one in charge, the black bones that formed the grim skeleton at the core of Solvent began to shake, the dark mass of shadows pooling at their feet and beneath the black desk that had replaced Runar's began to make their way up, crawling over the bones and smothering them like some sort of carnivorous tar creature. In seconds the skeleton took on the usual shape of Silhouette, much to the distress of the person sitting in the chair opposite them.

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Valker, formerly better known as Tristare, one of the Runarian Knights, had been very anxious about his fate when his former employer disappeared into the aether while the entity the said employer had antagonized repeatedly had him at its mercy. Luckily for him and his coworker Medraw as well as all of the surviving minions of their departed lord, Silhouette had been open to the idea of letting them live without going being subjected to the Transformation Aspect, so long as they were willing to sign a very constraining contract. They may have essentially become the slaves of the shadow creature in the end, at the very least they were slaves who could still form their own opinions, even if they would never be able to act on them.

The suit of armor mainly composed of chainmail which had become his signature equipment had changed very little since the arrival of his new master, essentially just becoming black after Silhouette got his tentacles on it after some time spent analyzing it alongside his inventor, but the upgrade in durability was appreciated. The invisibility enchantment woven in the metal had become weaker and thus easier to detect and break for those with the right tools or techniques, the masterful work Runar had done being destroyed in the metamorphosis and impossible to perfectly replace with him gone, but Valker could still appreciate the way the new suit let him better blend in the shadows. If anything, his ability to hide in plain sight had gotten drastically better so long as he stayed in the dark, his updated suit somehow becoming one with the ambient shadows. It even covered sounds outside of the suit itself, which meant he would not be defeated by noises produced by his body once again.

He still had shivers thinking about the dangerous stupidity of the idiots that formed the Shadow Commando, as well as their illogical extreme effectiveness despite it.

But right now, what had the helmetless man shake in his boots was the disturbing way his new master appeared from the remains of a former enemy. He wasn't fully filed in on how the process worked exactly, but if anything it made things even worse. His mind couldn't help but picture his own bones blackened and abandoned in that seat, his consciousness still here but unable to do anything but observe the fate of the husk the body had become, forced to witness his enemies use it as an item like any other to further their goals, not even treated with the due respect a trophy of war should have.

Sometimes, he cursed his imagination. It was an often forgotten tool for a spymaster, the ability to come up with various ways the information he had gathered could align and fit in together, but it was also absolutely atrocious when it came to matters like this one, or what had become of the Runarian Knights' former unspoken leader.

Gods, the way the flesh writhed, and the dragging of metal on the brain...

Even the experienced scout could keep away the grimace that formed on his exposed face. It was an odd thing around these parts, not only were people of his species rather rare to see outside of the seaside he was a mutant among them. For instance, the light blue scales that covered his skin housed four pairs of gills spread through both sides of his head were perfectly natural for his people, but the lungs in his chest that let him breathe with ease on the surface were an oddity. Most of his kin either had to go through apne or wear special gear, much like humans did when diving. The sight of a normally aquatic creature in the slums was uncommon, but not fully unexpected. Numerous were the Cored or their descendants who had the Body Aspect and mutated into hybrids of animals that could live at sea or in rivers. The specifics of how the Body Aspect chose what powers to give people and if transforming them was necessary were a mystery to the Baudrer, but the fact remained that seeing a shark man wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

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What made Valker's case special was that he wasn't a mutated member of the human race or any of its close cousins who ended up looking like a fish, but rather a variant from a humanoid species that had evolved independently from the homo sapiens family underwater. There were no truly animalistic features on his body that could be likened to a single creature, but rather a series of traits that had become commonplace among aquatic lifeforms due to their usefulness. He had scales, he had membranes he could puff up or keep limp and easy to hide that he could use as fins to easily and rapidly move, his mouth was home to many small sharp teeth meant to keep prey trapped inside rather than easily chew, and he had no hair to speak of, instead replaced by more membranous parts that males of his species used to attract mates by incorporating them in colorful dances.

Valker still had traits that made him an outcast from his people. His third eye was the easiest to notice of a lot, even people from other species could tell it wasn't meant to be there, but it wasn't the only one. The normally colorful fins that dropped from his head to his shoulders, usually covered by his chainmail veil, had been a dull dark blue ever since his birth and despite puberty. He lacked the webbing commonly found between the digits of his kin, here to better maneuver in the water, and his limbs were oddly proportioned by their standards, a little too big, better to fit in with other humanoids but making his efforts to swim harder than the rest of his people.

The most bizarre and extreme of these mutations though, at least by the standards of his species, was his size. While female Baudrers could be anything from human-sized to twice that, the males were much smaller, most never going past the knee of the smallest female. The reproductive process of Baudrers was similar to the one employed by deepsea anglerfish, one of their cousin species. A male attached himself to a female's body and slowly fused with it by becoming nutrients for her while the sexual organs would be preserved as a growth she would then use as she pleased when she felt ready to have progeny. This drastic difference in their biology made their society highly matriarchal, and a mutant like Valker was very unwelcome there. Joining a group that didn't care one bit about what his body should be and instead only his abilities was nice.

Now was just a matter of hoping he would keep his body. Knowing the Patcher's love for the bizarre and grotesque, should a conflict occur between the elf and Silhouette, Valker would likely be one of the first targets. And with the contract he had signed, he couldn't simply run away.

Oh, the irony. He escaped a potential fate of fusing with a partner to now risk being fused against his will with a stranger. At least this time he might be lucky enough to be the brain in charge.

The upsetting wince of the erringly humanoid yet alien piscine face of his subordinate did not escape James' notice, but he was willing to overlook it. Solvent being disturbing and creepy was second nature to them, and the whole grotesque transformation thing fit in James' construction of the Silhouette mythos perfectly. Once you became a horror icon, people had a habit of no longer trying to trouble you with their nonsense and needless violence. Keeping up the scary part of the act was not necessary with loyal employees and trusted confidants, but to put it bluntly, the remains of Runar's gang were neither, aside from those that had been infused. The day he no longer doubted their abilities and willingness to commit to the group, magically enslaved or not, was the day he'd feel okay to let peak somewhat behind the curtain of his facade. Until then, they'd have to make do with the global pastry reward policy, as well as the medical benefits. Also, some of the rune inscribers had been very eager to sign the deal when they saw their new salaries and vacation days.

Judging by the fact the strange fish person wasn't overtly panicking and running about, James was at the very least relieved to see whatever emergency needed him wasn't a direct attack on their position. Still, seeing Tristare - no, he went by his original name of Valker now, without Runar around the whole knight theme had been dropped after all - here and fidgety instead of out and about couldn't be good news, especially as he now knew through Solvent what his last assignment had been.

"Valker. What is it that required me to be present immediately?"

"Master. I was keeping an eye on the Patcher, to see if he had taken in Karadok and was preparing something to avenge Runar or not."

"What have you discovered?"

"I can confirm Karadok was there, but not as a guest or a client. He's the latest project in monster crafting of the Patcher, he plans to modify him to become an upgrade to Glapissant, some sort of living fortress called Kamelot from what I heard."

"This is not what I wanted to hear, but at the very least we now know for certain what happened to the last Knight, that's the five of you taken care of. Judging by how quickly you came back and your demand to see me, that isn't all you have to say."

"I'm afraid not, master. The Patcher expressed curiosity in you, pondering the possibility you may be close enough to flesh to fit in with his usual designs, and considered having you and Karadok be joined in a sacrilegious union of a beast."

Knowing what he did about the insane man and his creations, James was confident this was very bad news. Another madman trying to enslave him and break his will to fit their own design was the exact opposite of what he wanted, and what made the situation even worse was the uncertainty in all matters related to the maker of abominations. He had ties with many of the major gangs and Villainous groups, this was public news in the slums, but how important these connections were wasn't. James knew at the very least that Sunburn, the rumored strongest Villain of the city, had moved to catch and return some of the Patcher's creatures that had escaped, but would the Draskian cyborg be willing to act on the man's behalf to attack someone else? If he did, would the rest of the Blood Angels, the gang he was part of, let him do as he pleased? Even if none of the people who owed the madman acted, what about the Patcher himself and his grotesque victims? Glapissant was a nightmare to deal with, but how much of that was the beast, and how much were the runic inscriptions Runar had made on its bones? As for the man, he might have been powerless without his creatures just as well as he could have been twice as strong as Runar, no one had ever seen him fight after all. If they did, they weren't able to spread the tale.

"Did he mention anything about a possible hunt or assault, in whichever way he expresses himself?"

"No, master, but I hurried to return when he alluded to knowing about my presence, much like you did back when I spied on you in your warehouse."

"Oh. Did he say anything else? If he knew who you were exactly, perhaps?"

"Yes, he knew it was me, and that I now worked for you. He deduced your Transformation Aspect as well, from studying Karadok's severed hands I believe. He also told me to remind you his door was open to you at any time, should you ever require his services."

"I see. From now on, have Mischief keep an eye on the area without getting too close. It appears the Patcher isn't willing to initiate a fight, but I wouldn't be surprised if the next group who tries to fight us has one of his creations at their command. A cold war of sorts. Is there anything else you wish to say about this situation?"

"Only that whatever your feelings may be about Karadok, what he's going through is far worse than what he and Runar had planned. If this Kamelot does come for you, please have the mercy to kill it."

"If the opportunity comes, I would happily put an end to the suffering of any of the abominations that man may send after us. If that is all on the Patcher situation, try to fill me in about the others you have spied on. I know Solvent and Mischief keep track of those things, but hearing them from your mouth would help better understand. No need to go into details."

"Medraw would be better at explaining this, but let me try. Most of the surrounding gangs are nervous about your takeover, but since Runar's aggressivity towards you was made public on the Block when Pierce Evil first attacked you they are willing to stay put for now, doubly so since you have yet to initiate any more fights since then. Besides, the closest in the area were far too weak to pose a threat to the former master of the land, what could they hope to do against you? Wicked Witchcraft as a whole swept the whole incident under the rug, unsurprising since the lord had been banished in all but name. The bigger groups are hearing about your name, but so far none seem to show an interest in communicating with or crushing us. Some of Runar's former clients have stopped all contact with us, but the majority are happy to keep using our services since the quality of our goods hasn't dropped. The same goes for our suppliers."

"Did any of them protest the policy change when it came to weaponry?"

"A few, but they're happy to keep it to themselves with the increase in defensive enchantments. They may not kill as many of their enemies as they did in the past, but they get to keep their people alive, doubly so when two of our clients engage with one another. As for the mundane items, they are as popular as ever, and I believe you are correct to think they would also sell well in the city."

"Very good. Has anyone approached us for an alliance or special contract? What about those in search of employment?"

"Mostly mutual agreements not to begin hostilities, and we accept them all as per your orders. We did get a messenger or two trying to sell the services of mercenary guards, as well as possible suppliers that lord Runar had refused, but none of them were eye-catching enough to be deemed worthy of your attention. A few new clients appeared, but again, nothing worth bothering you. Those looking for a job in either your warehouse, your shop, or this runic item production facility have grown in number, but so far we have yet to give anyone any response."

"Who was handling hiring for Runar? Perhaps they could help us weed out spies and thieves so that we can give the hard workers the jobs they demand and that we need people for."

"Karadok did, master. Truth be told, he was the one running most of the operations here, the lord only took care of paperwork that required his signature and runes beyond the level of our scribes. Not to say he did nothing, but rather that Karadok did much more than just his Knightly duties of handling threats."

"I see. I suppose then that finding someone suited for the hiring process is our priority when it comes to new employees. Medraw can fill in the meantime if she is available."

"With all due respect master, I doubt she will be willing to work with strangers until she molts to heal her wound and her illusory equipment is fixed. Thankfully letters and audio messages have been enough to handle our clients so far, but I fear anything that requires her to be present in person will be impossible unless you want her to be so stressed she cannot fulfill her tasks properly."

The first time James had seen the mysterious leather-clad woman without her disguise had been surprising, to say the least. Without the magic of the runes covering her attire, her true insectile nature had been revealed, exposing a humanoid cockroach-like creature. Techlord had done a number on her during their fight, and it appeared even now she had yet to heal the dent in the exoskeleton on her head. She had been compliant when Mischief caught her, and aside from her visceral dislike to show her true self to others she had proven to be a very good worker. Techlord and the Commando hadn't been careful enough when attempting to strip her of her armor and damaged the leather, in turn breaking the runes. The scribes were working on it, but without Runar's original design to copy it was much slower than fixing Valker's invisibility suit, and imperfect illusionary runes produced results that should not be seen by anyone outside of a torture room.

"Have her do it remotely, then. Perhaps you could stay in the room with the interviewee while she talks through an intercom? People would assume they aren't being observed and might even drop their guard and not bother putting up a facade then."

"I believe you are correct, master. I think I have nothing more to report, though I ask you to forgive me for interrupting your work."

"Do not worry, Valker. I prefer to be called for nothing than to be left in the dark in dire times. Besides, it was Solvent who called me, which means they agreed with your assessment that I needed to get involved."

"Right. The skeleton."

"Indeed, though I'm not confident it was theirs to begin with. They seem quite comfortable to forgo it when necessary, even though it is still part of them."

"Oh."

Darkness melted from the black bones and settled back down into a pool of shadows under the concerned gaze of Valker.

"What did he mean, 'they can go without the skeleton'?"

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