The New World

Chapter 346: Quick Deals and Equal Exploits

The frog simmered, “You speak that because no matter the outcome, your false empire will be helped more by their deaths. You’re trying to kill them to fuel this death game Schema placed us in. Their armies will, in essence, become yours.”

I stepped up, several feet taller than Obolis. Shalahora’s shroud dispersed while I spread my hands,

“Hey Obolis, it’s good to see you again. I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

The Emperor’s eyes opened wide, and he leaned back, “You survived? Hah, why would I expect anything else? You’re like eldritch in a sewer; there’s no killing all of you.”

I leaned over the other rulers, “I do try to make it a habit to not die.”

After inspecting a few of the numbers the rulers analyzed, I stood back upright, “You all sound busy, but what about making some time for a deal? Just know I can’t stay for that long, and I’d really like to handle this quickly if that’s possible.”

Obolis tilted his head, “What kind of deal, exactly?”

I gestured at everything, “One where I fix what’s broken here. I have already inspected the place and installed an elevator for everyone. I also put the gravity well in place, but no one seems to have noticed. What gives?”

Obolis tapped his side, “We suspected a ripple in the gravitation of Leviathan to be the cause of it. As that suspending force has lingered, questions arose over its source. Your arrival acts as an obvious answer to the enigma.”

The other rulers peered up at me, wondering who I was until the chubby frog ruler pointed up at me, “You’re that fool that spoke to Schema directly, aren’t you? Hah, it’s a miracle you’re still alive, given you defied him so openly. I expected you to be sheared to pieces, yet here you are, alive and well.”

The beginnings of a frown formed on my lips. This ruler argued with Obolis, so the frog ruler didn’t like me since I knew the Emperor already. Taking the aggression with a grain of salt, I mused, “You were trying to keep people alive, right?”

“I was. My name is Malos. Malos Srika. I’m here as part of the Srikan Empire. I’ve been ruling it since I turned seven, and even at that age, I learned long ago to know my place. That’s obviously a lesson you never learned, considering how you spoke to Schema.”

Obolis glared at the ruler, the Emperor’s fangs flashing once more, “You shouldn’t slap at the mouth that feeds you, lest it takes your hand from your arm. In that same vein, speak accordingly in my presence, lest I rob you of your ability to do so.”

The frog gave him a wide grin, “Go ahead and expose what you are.”

Ignoring the taunt, the Emperor’s eyes flicked over to me, “It’s good to see you well, Harbinger. This planet’s harshness likely left you comfortable, given your unique constitution. Just as well, the golems you’ve conscripted have handled their work admirably on my planets. They’ve left a region on one of my worlds far more secure, and after we’ve survived this ordeal, I’d love to talk about hiring more of them.”

I shrugged, “As long as you have credits to pay, I have golems to give.”

Iona Joan crossed her arms, “Can we talk the terms for our factions first…Please?”

Once again, the rulers listened to her. Obolis said, “Let’s make the terms clear. What are you offering?”

I gestured to everything, “I can make the antigravity well permanent, and I can add quite a few other additions you guys desperately need. Food, water, air, depressurization, golems as guardians, etcetera. It will completely flip this faction’s current position.”

Obolis steepled his claws, “Wait a moment…You’ve already investigated this place?”

With a knowing glint in my eye, I smiled, “I have. And thoroughly.”

The other rulers gave me skeptical looks while Obolis dove deep into thought. He paced back and forth before raising a finger, “You wish to resolve our issues…Hm, that can be arranged. Given your skillset, I believe you when you promise to solve our logistical concerns. The golems and barriers will also be welcomed. However-“

He narrowed his eyes at me, “I’m left wondering what you want from us?”

I shrugged, “Nothing much, just half of everything.”

The other rulers burst into an uproar of squabbling, and Obolis sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose. The chubbier frog alien’s throat swelled at it gurgled out, “And what could you possibly offer us in exchange for so many resources? Do you even have proof of your abilities?”

I tilted my head at the frog, “Do you have any proof in mind?”

The frog crossed his arms, “Simple. You enact the changes you said you could handle.”

I raised my brow, “Ah, you want free labor. I see where this ‘deal’ is going.”

Obolis stepped forward, dwarfing the others present. The Emperor clapped his hand shut, a wicked pop echoing out. The noise silenced everyone in all directions, our area muted by a wave of magic. Obolis glared at the other rulers, and he menaced,

“Did you all ignore me when I mentioned his skillset, or do you lack ears perhaps? Know this: I don’t lie when I speak. My words may carry many meanings, but the most obvious of them point to undeniable reality. In this case, I can assure you that Daniel isn’t boasting without cause. He is a dimensional construct, and as such, he defies certain laws of nature.”

Obolis turned to me, “And, given those abilities, I’m more than willing to offer you a comparable compensation to what you’re offering. However, when you mention ‘half’ without context, I’m left wondering where and what you’re asking for. Could you clarify for everyone present, so all is understood?”

The rulers watched on while I peered around. I spread my arms, “Sure. I want half of the resources you have along with half of what you make after I fix everything here.”

If the rulers uproared before, they outraged now. Hissing, howling, and squealing, they aimed their ire at Obolis, but the Emperor gazed at them with disdain. The screams bounced off of him before Obolis murmured,

“Are all of you finished?”

No one replied, the room turning into a quiet lecture hall in an instant. Obolis stated like an announcement, “Remember our situation. We’ve lost many to Valgus and this planet. Daniel knows this, and he understands his worth.” Obolis gave me a knowing look, “Unfortunately for us, but it was inevitable that he’d uncover that value at some point.”

I remembered how he took advantage of me when we first met. Obolis didn’t seem to be trying to pull that same stunt again, and I appreciated it. Obolis raised a clawed hand, “Daniel, please ignore the rulers and their ignorance. You’re the youngest ruler present, holding no resources yet owning enviable talents. Forgive them and put little stock in their words.”

Obolis looked at the rulers and pinched his claws at them, “No stock in your words yet, rulers. You all own many skills and vast knowledge. Daniel’s raw resources will likely allow those abilities to flourish.”

Obolis pointed the pinched claws and his eyes at me, “Daniel. After the rulers understand the situation, then please, by all means, condemn them as you like.”

The Malos stammered, “We haven’t even decided what is to be done with the dying, and you’re dropping it as if this is more important. It shows what you truly value.”

Obolis loomed, “Our impasse resulted from how few options we had at our disposal. This is a change in our situation, so we should treat said change with care. I ask you all to silence yourselves for now and allow me to handle this meeting as I’ve worked with Daniel in the past. Just as well, he is credible. If the situation resolves to any of your dislikings, then I’ll grant my share of our resources to everyone and leave. Is that suitable?”

Obolis’s words rang out, and the other rulers’ grumbling ceased for the moment. Obolis turned back to me,

“Granting fifty percent of our total earnings will place us within a diminutive standard in the lottery’s rankings. Is it possible to only give thirty percent? That leaves us in a far better position moving forward.”

I considered their positions. From looking at their situation, the survivors struggled to do just that: survive. Considering everything I learned here, that made sense. Even from a cursory glance, the majority of rulers weren’t battle-ready. They focused on economics or even inherited their ruler status.

Of the remaining fighters, a portion joined Valgus Uuriyah before anyone landed on Leviathan-7. Further reducing the survivor’s numbers, a part of battle-ready rulers went out and wandered the planet. The nail in the survivor’s coffin came from the pro-Schema faction getting slaughtered by Valgus. His attack left them crippled, and what I’d seen here were the remnants of several more influential groups.

Affirming my guesstimation was how much pressure Obolis put on this group. During the lottery’s introduction, the Emperor wasn’t a ruler that stood out in any way. However, now he ranked highly here, and that exposed how far these rulers had fallen from grace. Those titanic collisions between rulers already took place while I hid in the ossuary this entire time.

With my core golems and new know-how, I could pull these guys from the brink. My main issue revolved around getting them to understand that and getting a fair cut out of my input. 30% wasn’t cutting it considering what I imparted and where they stood. I shook my head at Obolis,

“I can’t accept 30%. Based on how everything is playing out here, very few of you will survive, let alone prosper. You’re also misunderstanding just how much I’m offering each of you.”

Obolis turned a clawed hand to me, “Do tell.”

I waved my arm across the room, “I’m not giving everyone survival – I’m offering a chance for affluence, prestige, and wealth. I give stability. I give security. Most of all, you’ll gain raw power, something you desperately need.”

I pressed my fingertips together, emphasizing each point, “You will walk here without worrying about your bones breaking or your body falling. Powerful, unflinching guardians will tear down the enemies at your door. Even better, I will grant you limitless power, allowing you to accomplish your current goals with ease.”

I waved my hand, “This will change your positions completely. Your rate of resource accrual will exponentially multiply, and I’m asking for half because the half you make with me will dwarf the whole of what you make now.”

Not believing a word I said, the rulers gazed at Obolis, their aged eyes full of doubt, disorder, and hints of disdain. The primary source of that disdain, the frog ruler rolled his eyes from me to the Emperor,

“Obolis…You wanted everyone below murdered to conserve our resources, but now you want to give all of our resources away to this young upstart? He barely understands our situation, let alone the complexities of the planet.”

Obolis dragged his hands down his face, “You know, Malos, you remind me of my spoiled nieces and nephews. They were given positions of influence, never needing to earn them. My gifts changed their perspectives, and I regret how I handled them. I stifled their struggles, which stained them with entitlement. It is a failure I alone carry.”

Obolis glared at the frog in disgust, “Considering you inherited your own empire, I see you are much the same in that regard.”

Malos smiled at Obolis, his skin thick with slime, “You believe you’re the first to downplay my ascension? Continue doing so. I will prove with my words that I am more than what you make of me.”

The frog ruler gazed up at me, and he gurgled, “Besides that, we don’t even know if you’re lying about the gravity well either.”

I snapped my fingers, the saturated magic waning. The rulers present changed their looks, many of them unable to tolerate gravity’s intense pull. The chubby frog nodded, “Ah…It seems there’s some validity to what you’ve claimed. I…I was mistaken.”

I reactivated the gravity well, and the group gasped like pressure valves releasing. Having proven my legitimacy, no one interrupted the Emperor as he said to me,

“I’ve seen your cities, and I know how they were produced. Mostly, at least, and based on your confidence, it would seem they’ve improved. Am I right about that?”

Shalahora spoke up, “I have gazed upon them, and they dot the skies of the shining hell. He’s amassed a nation’s worth of territory. You all may share in that bounty should you accept what he offers. However, to do so, you must let go of what you think is true. Accept that you wallow in darkness. Only then may you step into the light.”

A bit peeved, Malos dabbed his cheek with an embroidered tissue, “If anything, I’d imagine you three conspired behind our backs. Yes, yes, I can see it now. You all intend to swindle our faction while we are desperate.”

Malos rallied the others, gazed at everyone present, “If we cave here, then we lose any chance at pulling ourselves out of the depths with our own two hands. We’re chaining our limbs to these rulers here and for nothing. Gravity well or not, he still hasn’t proven his other abilities.”

Shalahora dispersed back into his shadowy form, “You may all listen to his words, or you may listen to the howling desperation that pervades here. It echoes in the halls, and it oozes from the floors. The malice. The stink of death. This is no sanctuary. It is a prison that awaits the end of those it holds. I will say it only once more; the Harbinger offers much to you all. You may grasp it or let it go. That choice is yours.”

The rulers gazed at Shalahora, the Sovereign’s words worth more than mine and Obolis’s put together. Obolis gave a nod of approval to Shalahora, and the Emperer clapped,

“It would seem that validity has been established then. Daniel, is there any portion of this place you’d prefer to have? Perhaps the promised help of an individual or specific resource?”

I pointed down, “The lab is the most important part to me. I want every bit of information and some of the technology you’re using to record information in this place. It’s set it up so that I can avoid a lot of the leg work I’d otherwise have to handle.”

Malos’s irises turned to slits, “And why is that? Information is a low-yield offering. The cores and bones are what is truly valuable given the stakes of the lottery.”

Another diplomat coughed into his hand, and he spoke with an understanding tone to me,

“What Malos means to say is that we’d love to know why you want information specifically. I’m curious as well, but only because it allows us to better satisfy whatever it is you want from us all. I’m not the only one curious about you and what you’re offering.”

Finally, someone who knew how to negotiate spoke up. By comparison, Malos fell prey to his emotions, and at this rate, they’d destroy him. I shrugged at the diplomats,

“Honestly, I’d rather not say. Just know that I want the info.”

The rulers stared at one another before discussing their dealings for a time. Malos shouted in the group, and his voice split the faction in two, one side with Obolis and the other with Malos. After about ten minutes of waiting, Obolis stepped up and raised a hand,

“Then may we reduce the offering to my mentioned thirty percent, but we’ll exchange all information we attain about Leviathan-7, other rulers, etcetera? That should grant a greater percentage of offerings to us so that we may protect our empires from being conscripted. At the same time, you’ll be granted the data you so desire. It’s a win-win for both parties involved.”

He stuck out a hand, remembering how my species handled deals, “Do we have an arrangement?”

I tapped my chin, “Even if I value the info more, that doesn’t mean I don’t want the resources. Let’s make it forty percent, but I also want information sent to me after we come back from the lottery on top of what you guys have here. I want to know the outcomes for the other rulers, their rankings and rewards, hm, you know, all that good stuff.”

They went back to arguing, the diplomats forming into the two camps. Malos peered at one another, whispering in low breaths,

“I can’t believe they’re taking him this seriously. He proved his gravity well but nothing else.”

“Yes, but Shalahora was over level 60,000. I know nothing about him, but you don’t get to level 60,000 by pushing papers. I don’t know for sure, but he could probably kill us all if he wanted to. Despite everything, he’s still arguing for this person’s validity. This Daniel might be telling the truth.”

The frog ruler’s throat bulged again as he raised a palm to Shalahora, “Ah, Sovereign, I was wondering if you would answer a question for me?”

Several rulers peered back and forth, an awkward tension forming in the room. Shalahora’s voice oozed, “I may answer. I may not.”

Malos raised his bony brow, “Fair enough…To level with you, a being such as yourself has many options. Even Valgus wished for your favor, and he assaulted the Pro-Schema faction right after we arrived. We still care for those dead and dying. His power was palpable, but despite sharing his position, you allied with this young upstart. Would you mind explaining yourself?”

I scratched the back of my head while Shalahora murmured, “We formed an alliance before arriving here.”

The frog rolled his hand in a circle, “Yes, yes, yes, but I’m more so left wondering as to why you would form that alliance? Does that make sense?”

Shalahora menaced,

“No.”

Several rulers dripped cold sweat, but Malos wasn’t one of them. Bold as always, the chubby frog puffed itself up and tilted its head at Shalahora, “I understand you don’t wish to say. I will allow this issue to slide, and of course, I meant no offense. Ah yes, Harbinger, a word of advice-” The frog blinked with a smile, “Never ally with someone who’s unclear of what they want. That’s all I’ll say.”

When Shalahora tilted his head at Malos, several of the other rulers, including me, shook our heads. Malos was begging for it, and Shalahora gave it to him. The Sovereign froze the frog ruler in place before the living shadow scoffed,

“You’ll allow this issue to slide?“

The Sovereign made the word sound like an ancient curse. The shadowy ruler hollowed out like a new moon while speaking to the frog,

“Your mind is an open book to me, yet you try to speak in riddles to mask your intentions and confound my own. It is the tactic of a politician, one who’s never tasted blood on their lips or lived at death’s door. Or basked at the end of madness.”

Shalahora flowed closer to Malos,

“You mistake my mercy for your boldness. This is not so. I offered to let you live, yet you act as if I cannot rob you of life. Of thought. Of your soul, body, and being. It is all in my palm, and it rests perched upon bottomless cliffs. Despite my position, you tested me…Have I failed you?”

The frog stumbled, falling back, and Shalahora gazed down at him, “Let me unveil your motives. You wish to weaken my and the Harbinger’s alliance, so our position isn’t as strong. You fought for those dying below because you wish to establish moral superiority for your own gain. It does not stem from a central, core belief in their worth; it is a means to an end. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

The frog ruler gasped, unable to speak. Shalahora murmured, “You may deny my words, but in doing so, I will cleave your mind asunder. There will be no doubt of your thoughts, for I shall share them all to those present. They will listen, and your lies will be known…But please, don’t force my hand.”

Shalahora encircled the ruler, “Do not make me the murderer of your mind, the source of your splintered soul.”

Shalahora released his unseen grasp on the frog, and the ruler vomited up blended insects. Shalahora peered at the others, “Force isn’t something I prefer, but it is the tool I wield. It is blunt…Heavy…And hardened. That is all I know, and so you may think my weakness lies in how I speak. Perhaps, but by exploiting my weakness, know that I will exploit your weaknesses in kind.”

Shalahora flowed away from the frog, who fumbled around as if shell-shocked. The shadowy Sovereign murmured, “And unlike what you’ve said, what I’ve done will never leave you…Will it, Malos?”

The frog continued flailing before curling into a ball in the corner. The entire time he spoke, I slowed time and inspected the situation. Shalahora wielded an incredible psionic ability, one far more potent than my own. It felt alien, as if some cosmic being inhabited Shalahora’s body at that moment, one without limit. I held back a grimace, remembering a similar mental pressure from something else.

The Old Ones.

Keeping that to myself, I put on my best poker face. The other rulers gawked at the frog, all of them beside Obolis. A seasoned warrior, the Emperor pinched his brow while sighing,

“You know…I’ve wanted to do the same for the last while, but I’m far too civilized for carnage of that kind.” Obolis smiled, covering his grin with a clawed hand, “But I do relish when someone from society walks into the uncivilized world. Oftentimes, those from the darkest regions shed light on some of the simplest truths.”

Obolis put on a thoughtful gaze as he stared at Malos, “It would seem he needed humbling. Perhaps another ruler would wish to doubt a literal Sun Swallower?” Obolis gave them a tight grin, “Anyone? No? Excellent. It would seem the rest of you evolved past single-celled life. Commendable, truly.”

In stressful situations, Obolis reminded me of a different shade of Helios. The Emperor peered back to us, “Since I’m one of the few rulers present with a functioning brain, I’ll make the necessary arrangements. We’ll agree to the terms you’ve so graciously laid out, ones that are now concrete because one of our own angered you both. Think of this as a sincere apology for our indiscretion.”

Several of the rulers present still gawked at the display of violence, many put on edge. I pulled my hair back, “Look, everyone, I had nothing to do with that. I’m just here for the deal.” Letting my hair go, I stretched out my hand, and Obolis shook it. The Emperor gave me a wide grin before rubbing his clawed hands together,

“Then it’s settled. You may begin your work when ready.”

I shook my head, “It isn’t. That’s our verbal agreement. I’ll be binding you all with something far more permanent than words.”

I pulled out my grimoire and opened the pages. Book in hand, I temporally accelerated while brainstorming the cipheric markings to ensure these rulers stuck to my contract. Unlike how Yawm’s agreement kept everything vague, I provided absolute clarity. I wanted no misinterpretations of this, and I kept everything as simple as possible.

Once my minds finished churning the document out, I ceased my time compression. With heated telekinetic points, I traced our agreement onto the pages of my grimoire. After charging it with mana, the cipheric etchings floated off the page and onto a slab of my own skin, one made at the moment. They sizzled into the dark metal, and I turned the plate to Obolis,

“You know how to read this, so it should all make perfect sense to you. Let me know if you need any addendums, and we can work it out.”

Obolis grinned while grasping the plate, “Gladly. Do relax while I ensure everything is in order.”

As Obolis read through the document, I turned to Shalahora. He peered back at me, and his gaze was unwavering. Gawking at the shadowy figure, the other rulers gave the Sovereign distance. They feared him, and Shalahora didn’t mind being abhorred in the slightest. Trying to find some kind of tell in his posture, I watched closely.

The guy was a literal shadow, so I couldn’t read anything. Wanting to avoid a similar situation in the future, I opened a telepathic connection. From the edges of my mind, Shalahora whispered,

“Did the seed of doubt sprout in your mind, little one?”

“It did. It wasn’t from what the frog said. It was from how you handled the situation and that…That attack you’re using. I’ve seen and felt something similar before, and I won’t be able to trust you unless you tell me what it was.”

Shalahora spoke quietly yet with great force,

“I only showed him pain.”

I winced, “It looked as though you robbed him of reason. How in the hell could he experience pain like that without any wounds, not even psionic ones?”

Shalahora’s voice grew distant, “It was not his pain.”

My eyes widened as Shalahora seethed,

“It was my own.”

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