The Lone Wanderer-Chapter 223: Diplomacy (2)
“To start with, I need your word that nobody will harm me or Nesha.”
“That’s not really up to me, is it?” the man asked back. “I can promise you the Divine Root won’t mistreat you as long as you cooperate, but I can’t speak for the Divine Order. The gods do as they please. And you’ve kept them waiting for way too long.”
Truth be told, Percy had expected a response along those lines. Still, that didn’t mean he would accept it.
“Not good enough. If you can’t even guarantee our safety, why the hell would we risk our lives to come quietly? Relay the request to the ones above: if you need to: and get back to us. We’ll wait.”
Jason’s superior didn’t reply immediately, seemingly considering it.
“My name is Deimos.” the man sighed eventually. “Hermes is actually my father. It’s going to be a tough ask on my part, but I think I can get him to agree to your terms with some pleading.”
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Deimos sounded sincere, but Percy didn’t miss Nesha’s core flaring slightly by the corner of his eye, specifically upon hearing the second half of the man’s statement. This was the signal they’d agreed upon.
‘He’s lying!’
Not necessarily about being Hermes’s son: that part seemed truthful. Rather, it was his ability to plead for leniency on their behalf that appeared somewhat dubious. But why would Deimos do something this dumb? Surely, he knew about Nesha’s bloodline by now…
‘Is he gambling on it not working properly through the device?’
“Well? Does that suffice?” Deimos asked again, oblivious to the fact that they were already onto him. “Honestly, I thought you’d want me to go easy on your family too. Do you not care about them?”
“Fuck them.” Percy spat without a moment’s hesitation. “Why do you think I was forced to leave for the Guild in the first place? If it hadn’t been for those stingy assholes, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”
“Hahahaha! Ruthless! I’m starting to like you kid. Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. If your and Nesha’s safety is all you want, I suppose we can let bygones be bygon–”
“No.” Percy said, interrupting Deimos. “I never said this was everything. 50 doses of elixir every single day. For the rest of my life. Promise me that, and I’ll follow Jason back to the Guild right this instant.”
Jason drew a sharp breath upon hearing that, his flickering soul betraying his inner turmoil. Deimos fell silent too, seemingly taken aback by the outlandish request. Not for very long, though…
“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR DAMN MIND?!” the man erupted.
“Not really.” Percy shrugged, unfazed by their reactions. “You know damn well we were able to earn way more than that on our own. For months on end. With virtually no backing, and while having to keep our heads low. The recipe is easily worth thousands of times as much, if not millions. Don’t tell me the Divine Order can’t afford it.”
“Whether they can afford it is beside the point. These are holy existences we’re talking about! The ones who keep our world safe! On principle, we can’t just have any random mortal extorting us! Let alone a Red-born runt! What kind of precedent would this set?!”
“How about a precedent that you are generous enough to properly encourage and reward magical breakthroughs? That you respect those capable and creative enough to revolutionize magic as we know it?” Percy insisted. “If you can’t even see that, you’re just a bunch of short-sighted fools.”
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“…”
“Kid, save your breath.” Deimos eventually sighed. “I’m not the one you need to convince. Terms like these would have been difficult to accept even if you’d negotiated with us properly, two years ago. Let alone after we’ve backed you to a corner.”
“I’m aware. Why do you think I chose to ran away in the first place? But these are my terms. Take it or leave it.”
Seeing the negotiations rapidly going south, Percy started taking one deep breath after another, filling his channels with mana. Their adversaries didn’t pick up on that, however, as Deimos offered a compromise a few seconds later.
“Here’s what we can do. I’m willing to give you a fifth of what you asked, out of my own pocket. I couldn’t afford a copper more than that, even if I wanted to.”
Percy had to suppress a chuckle after seeing Nesha’s core flare up more times than there were words in Deimos’s statement. Outwardly, Percy showed no sign of seeing through his façade, however. Instead, he kept his thoughts to himself, to let his enemies believe he was seriously considering their counteroffer. At the same time, he continued building his reserves up, feeling his boosting art take effect.
Deimos might be under the impression that he was deceiving Percy, but the opposite was equally true. After all, Percy had never really expected them to agree to his demands. Nor had he any intention of letting Jason go. Not after guessing he was the one responsible for locating them. But, while Deimos’s goal had been to trick them into surrendering peacefully, Percy was aiming for something entirely different.
‘I just hope this was enough.’
Contrary to what he’d told Deimos, he did care about his family. Very much so, in fact. But he couldn’t let them know that, to spare his relatives from their wrath. And then, there was Orin. Percy had to convince Deimos that he was solely responsible for the Aurora Dew, to give his mentor some plausible deniability.
Of course, he didn’t really know what had happened to the old alchemist, but he assumed he was still alive and well. If not, the Divine Root would have already learned the recipe. That said, things would change now that they’d discovered the extent of Percy’s involvement. It wasn’t a huge secret that Orin had mentored him.
“I see how it is.” Deimos said, having seemingly picked up on something, after seeing Percy remain silent for too long. “Jason. Break all their limbs and drag them both to the Guild. Just make sure to keep them alive.”
“Roger that.” Jason replied a little too eagerly. Though his boss hadn’t even waited for that, the runes on the artifact already dim.
“Go.” Percy whispered, having discussed this with Nesha beforehand.
“Be careful.” she replied, bolting off.
Percy didn’t spare her another glance, turning his attention to Jason as the glowing lines lit up on his body, one after another. His muscles tensed too, his skin reddening as Synchronization fully activated. But he didn’t stop there, grabbing the flask strung by his waist, cleaving its lid off with a hastily crafted construct. Without a moment’s hesitation, he gulped its contents down with one swift motion, not having the luxury to complain about the potion’s peculiar flavour stinging his tongue and throat both.
Truth be told, Percy hadn’t thought he’d have to resort to his latest creation mere days after brewing it. Still, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. As risky as it was, he knew his companions would only slow him down right now. And there was no other way to hold his own against the likes of Jason without his armour.
‘Please work!’ he pleaded as a rush of burning mana spread out of his stomach, swiftly enveloping his flesh.
Within seconds, his blood began to boil, as his veins bulged and squirmed along his skin, painting a stark contrast against the glowing lines brought about by his boosting art. His muscles swelled even more than before, some blood inevitably oozing out of his body as his skin tore in several spots, having stretched beyond its limits. The blood didn’t trickle down either. Instead, it bubbled and frothed by the wounds, traces of crimson joining the teal fog leaking out of his pores.
Percy winced, feeling his body tearing itself from within. But he couldn’t afford to dwell on the pain, pulling his blindfold off just in time to see Jason sprinting towards him. A lot of that weird mana was gushing out of the man’s sternum too, as he was already preparing his own magic. Percy’s heart skipped a beat at the sight: though that might have more to do with his racing pulse than fear.
‘At least the bastard is ignoring Nesha for now…’ he couldn’t help but grin.
It was another key goal during their previous negotiations. To make himself important enough so that his enemies would focus on him first. Not that it would matter much if he ended up dying.
With a subtle wave, he called upon the invisible pair of scythes propped up against a nearby tree, drawing them to his hands. Percy was perfectly aware that he’d be at a severe disadvantage as soon as the potion expired. If losing its help wasn’t enough to do him in, its severe side-effects might. And his already short window to act would continue to shrink with every passing second.
‘Fifteen minutes, tops. I have to make sure he’s dead by then…’