Waterstrider

Canvas Town, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Fifthmonth, 1634 PTS

I raised an eyebrow quizzically as I looked downwards at the strange man who had been set on the ground before me. He was a sei, but his hair had been buzzed and he was wearing a distinctly Staiven set of armor.

“Why did you kidnap a mercenary?” I asked, glancing over at Jihan. He had just arrived back from the mission carrying the man, and in another room his squad members were unloading the sledged of our ill-gotten gains. Jihan shrugged.

“I recall we were lacking a proper tutor for the disciples who chose flickering miasma? There were some talented youths in that group, and I felt that they would be better served with a teacher who has personal experience.”

“Despite being their current teacher, I have to agree. But is he worth the effort? I remember you took him down in moments,” said Rachel, piping up from where her projection was leaning on the side of the wall.

“Despite his lacking advancement, his movements and use of techniques struck me as very practiced. We were going to kill him anyway, so I felt it would not be an issue even if he did not turn out to be useful.”

“I’ll speak with him after he wakes,” I said. “I certainly would prefer to have a proper teacher for all of the disciples. Were there any other surprises?”

“None. The facility was annihilated in the explosion, with no damage to the stack itself. According to Vice-Leader Rachel, the planted evidence should be sufficient to imply a thief tried to break in and he and the response mercenaries were all killed due to some sort of ignited chemical leak.”

I glanced at Rachel for confirmation, and she gave me a short nod.

“Very good,” I said.

I had been concerned that it had been too easy, but I supposed that sometimes events really did turn out as planned. Then I glanced at the mercenary on the floor. Perhaps not perfectly according to plan. The man was, after all, living evidence. Still, I couldn’t help but smile, glad that the mission had been so successful. I preferred to stay in the good graces of my allies, and the Venin Group, with our help, could only grow more and more influential. While it was only one of the lesser corporations, it was fully outside of the control of the churches, which might prove helpful at some point in the future. Though I knew Nahalken was devout, he was a Fulstovan, which meant he believed it was his divine duty to sell out the church itself if the counter-offer was good enough. In my opinion, the adherents of that religion were simultaneously some of the easiest and most difficult individuals to barter with.

“Have Ran’s people sort the haul,” I ordered, “and tell her to contact Nahalken with the good news.”

“Roger.” replied Rachel with a salute. Paying no heed to her eccentricities, I turned to face Jihan once again. Seeing that I had something else to say, he stood firmly and waited for me to speak.

“You finished that mission rather quickly,” I said.

He nodded.

“They clearly underestimated how much security they would need.”

I nodded, finding myself fully in agreement with the assertion.

“I suspect many corporations in the coming climate will find themselves increasing their security. The great forces of the underworld are all finding themselves in need of allies. Even the Drelistai and the rest who remain uninvolved for the moment are making their own preparations.”

“What are you getting at?” he asked.

Rachel laughed.

“I’ll get to the point, because Cyrus is clearly losing himself in thought again. We made a deal with the Celans, and you’re going to work with them to take down an Exid Queendom.”

“What?” asked Jihan, surprised. “I thought they were your- our enemies.”

She shrugged, a smirk on her face, as if to pretend humility while implying it was an impressive feat. In actuality, I suspected the Celans had considered attempting to bury our mutual enmity even before this moment. They likely wished to minimize the racial tensions as much as possible in order to put off their conflict with the Hadal Clan. Such a war would likely end up poorly for everyone involved if more preparations could not be made, but the preparation and delay did nothing but increase the projected impact of the conflict.

“We’ve buried the hatchet,” said Rachel.

“So with all that said,” I emphasized. “Tomorrow we’ll need you to take your squad to Otan. The Heirs of Ottrien have a safe house there where you can meet up with the man they placed in charge of their interests in the district. I’ll leave you in charge of this.”

“Understood.”

“Good. Rachel will give you the rest of the background information on the topic. I’ll see you when you return, most likely.”

With that said, Jihan walked out the room, discussing the details with Rachel, whose form was visibly distorted for a second as a clone of herself walked out of her own body to talk with him, while another remained in the room with me. I stood over the still slumbering mercenary, glancing down at his prone form.

“So who exactly is this?” I asked.

“His name is Mung Seo, born and raised in Tseludia. He joined a gang when he was young, but later left it to become a mercenary after a close call with being arrested by the Justice Office. He’s been in that profession for almost five years now.”

She spoke in a monotone voice as if she was reciting some sort of biography.

“I see. Let’s find out what he’s like as a person.”

I tapped his side with my foot a couple times, and Mung slowly roused to awakening. After a moment of bleary confusion, he glanced up at me and gasped in shock, sliding himself away using his hands.

“It seems that he recognizes you,” laughed Rachel. “You truly have become a recognizable figure, haven’t you, Cyrus?”

“So it seems,” I replied. “Your name is Mung Seo, I hear?”

He took a deep breath, and managed to gather up courage, slowly rising to his feet.

“That is correct, Sect Leader Yu. It is an honor to meet the great Riverfiend.”

It seemed he knew the proper etiquette for dealing with people of status. It had not been dulled, but perhaps even enhanced during his years of work within Staiven society.

“Congratulations, Mister Seo, you have been recorded as officially dead by the government!” said Rachel.

I gave her an odd look, while Mung just blinked his eyes in confusion.

“What?” he asked.

I decided to explain.

“Rather than killing you with the rest of your squad, Jihan had you brought here because he felt you might be useful to us.”

“In what way?” the man asked.

Mung looked to be in his early thirties, though I suspected him to be slightly older. He appeared about half a decade older than I did, though I suspected that between the two of us, I was the elder. I looked barely half of my true age due to the great gain in vitality brought by my high level of advancement down the path of martial arts.

“We could use an experienced tutor for our disciples who are learning flickering arts.”

“A tutor… you wish for me to teach students?” he asked, shocked. “I am only a meridian refiner.”

“What we seek is your experience, not your advancement. It’s not a bad job,” said Rachel. “Most martial artists would leap at such an opportunity to join the sect. Of course, you’re not being given much of a choice. Strictly speaking you’re a liability to us, so if you aren’t useful we’ll probably need to kill you.”

It seemed that Mung was a practical man. After only a moment more consideration, he willingly agreed to take the position.

“I can do this if you wish,” he said, “though I do not understand your decision.” His mouth contorted into a saddened smile. “I don’t wish for death.”

I met his smile with one of my own, as I knew exactly how he felt. I once knew someone who would have said I became what I most reviled, but I was too cynical to believe that myself. I had always been this way, deep down, I thought.

“If it had not been us, it would have been someone else,” I told him, not entirely sure myself why I felt the urge to comfort him. “If it were another force, you would not have been granted this opportunity to live.”

“Do you think yourself kind, Riverfiend?” Mung asked in response, unable to entirely hold back his glare.

I chuckled in response.

“I wouldn’t be here if I was.”

Tseludian Mercenaries: [In a place where the underworld holds as much power as it does in Tseludia Station, Private Military Companies are vital for preserving the power of the corporations. These forces, many of whose members are also part of the underworld, hold the different forces in check, as well as guarding the various corporations against one another. They are experts in fishing in murky waters, able to profit from all sorts of wars and disputes, often from both sides of the conflict. These companies are extremely territorial against one another, competing for contracts, and in many cases fighting against one another. Some mercenary companies are largely or entirely composed of one race, while others are extremely diverse, taking in members from all sorts of different races and assigning roles according to skills. Powerful practitioners of progression systems such as the Seiyal are highly prized by all PMCs, though it is rare for any of the core formation level or above to join one. Such individuals are often more likely to found their own.]