As for me, I watch Yorera, who has a calculating look in his eyes. Our chance of sneaking in has been broken by an obstinate guard, so I’m curious what Yorera will do.
The Crystal Lieutenant speaks first, eyes fixed upon Yorera. “I am invoking Council Security Protocol 158, section 83. All information in this room will be locked and safeguarded under Council Secrecy Protocols and will not be revealed for a thousand years. Now. Speak.”
Yorera shoots a look at me, visibly considering. Red skin flushes darker, turning almost deep scarlet red as his tail waves. Then he shrugs. “My apologies, Redeemer. This is not going to work.”
I watch as the Mooks freeze, surprise showing on their faces. Yorera’s guards are less surprised, instead pulling out weapons as the Samurai shift in position.
“You are saying this is the Redeemer of the Dead? The human we have been tasked at locating?” Crystal Mook grates out, his voice ever so careful. He waves one of his many hands, gesturing for the guards to close in on us.
Slime-Mook and the others close, weapons pulled.
“Yes.” Yorera glares at me. “This was not my plan. I wanted to be deeper within, where my people are waiting. But this will do. This is the Redeemer of the Dead. The human you are searching for.” His grin widens, sharp carnivore teeth flashing pearly white as he gloats. “Did you think I would risk my life, my child’s life for a simple Title? You are facing the Council itself! And the rewards offered. Why, what I'll get—”
I never hear what he was going to get.
The Lieutenant Mook moves first. He thrusts his hand through Yorera’s neck, catching him in the back of the spine, his crystal arm erupting from Yorera’s neck then growing, engulfing his head in crystal. Yorera struggles, his guards moving to help him. The Slime-Mook rears up, engulfing a trio of guards near it—both Yorera’s devils and another Council guard.
Beam attacks fire while Mikito kicks and beats another while her hands are still chained. The three musketeers bear down another pair of guards while Harry falls flat onto the ground, covering his head as best as he can.
As for me? I slip out of the manacles, my Skill Edit making the damn manacles fall away. Then I trigger Judgment of All on the enemies within. And there are more of them than I’d like. It seems only the Slime and the Crystal Lieutenant are on our side as they battle valiantly.
Unfortunate for our enemies, Judgment of All doesn’t care where they are so long as I can sense them, see them. The spell erupts, tearing at them through their connection to the System, raw Mana flooding their bodies. Their screams, their struggles are brief. But not without cost.
We find the Slime a bubbled mess, his body eaten away by the poisons, the necrotic attacks used by Yorera’s guards. The feedback attack from Yorera himself, as an Ambassador, has shattered the crystal light within the Mook Lieutenant. He lies dying, his body cracked. Even healing spells do little for him.
“Never mind me, Redeemer. My crystal is shattered. But the formation will grow,” the Crystal Mook speaks, it’s body twisting and shuddering one last time before it collapses in on itself.
In the silence, I look around. The musketeers did well, keeping Harry alive. Agr’us is the most injured, hair of his beard burnt off, clutching at the stump of his arm. The remainder of his arm is lying a short distance away, bubbling as poison eats it.
“Lord Sato, are you well?” Ruvuuds is by Mikito, looking her over with his cat-eyes.
Mikito grimaces as the poisons threaten to eat away her leg. A brief foray over and a System Edit fixes the issue, allowing her to heal.
Harry is on the floor, trying to recover his bearings, his state of mind. Vrasceids is helping him, speaking softly as he strokes the reporter’s back, offering comfort by presence and touch.
I don’t have time for that. Instead, I move quickly, picking up the bodies of the guards and moving them into my Altered Storage before cleansing the space.
After that, we pull out the Lady’s security clearances once more before I hack our way out of the security room. This time around, we use a secondary exit, one that leads us directly into the council building itself, bypassing other security stations.
As we move, I can’t help but think we got off light.
***
Of course, eventually, Harry recovers enough to ask the questions. “Why’d they help us? Were they more of your Questors?”
I answer him, using the Party Chat, keeping our answers to the silence of the System. I lock it down with System Edit, though I know it isn’t perfect. But if anyone is looking that close, we’re screwed anyway.
“No. It was a trade,” I say. “Those attacks that Katherine was complaining about? They were distractions, but also payments. To certain factions with the Fist, kingdoms who wanted revenge. In turn, they’d help us out here.”
“Dangerous. They’re defying the Council directly,” Harry says. “Don’t they fear retaliation?”
“Of course they do. Which is why the help will be limited. The moment Crystal and Slime-Mook helped us out, they were dead. Cutouts that can’t offer further information.”
Even if someone pulled information backward, searched for how they were told, I’m sure it was hidden. Coded words, additional cutous. Ways of saying things without saying it.
“He has a name, you know.”
“I do.” But I carry enough names, enough grief with me already. His death, his sacrifice, is not one I take on. Even though I fear both are indelibly stuck in my memory anyway, that he’ll come to me in the middle of the night like so many others. Accusing me, berating me.
The help I’ve acquired, the people I paid off and locked with my System Edit Skill are numerous. But my plans, my options are wide too. And so in each spot, our potential help is thin. And there’s only so far they’re willing to aid us. Getting us into the Council chambers to create havoc? Sure.
Directly killing others? No.
As with so many things, we’re on our own for the majority. We hurry through the security corridors, our changed clothing and the firm stride we move with allowing us to pass without issue. Safeguarded by the Legendary’s Skill and the knowledge that we can’t be here.
In these safe, secure corridors of their security personnel.
Chapter 22
The journey to the Council chambers takes forever. Each diplomatic retinue has its own specific location within the building, one that’s protected by the same rules and regulations of diplomatic immunity that pervade the building itself. The Galactic Council building is not owned or controlled by any single individual, instead guarded by the Council and their guards.
Within each diplomatic sector are the institutions that own their voting boxes, their own safe zones. Of course, there are limits to that self-governance within the building itself, but it does offer some level of security once we arrive.
Soon enough, we pass the external security perimeter. Inside the building itself, security is looser. We pop out then, stepping into the main thoroughfares. A simple privacy bubble created by a Skill from Harry keeps the majority of people from speaking with us.
Even those diplomats and guards who see through the bubble only glance at our group before turning away. Custom and manners means that the vast majority do not attempt to interact with us.
That is, until we’re stopped by a familiar coral-eared, pale-skinned set of figures. The Erethrans that stop our team are not people I recognize automatically, even though I’ve seen images of the Vice-Ambassador that stands before us. Hands crossed behind his back, clad in the latest fashion, which in this case seems to include very little clothing—I wonder when that changed—the Erethran Ambassador shifts when we do.
I find myself coming to a stop and letting him enter the privacy bubble. I growl a little, annoyance in my voice. “Vice Ambassador Ramanner, what is the meaning of this?”