Chapter 265: Aftermath
In the real world, when someone walks through a wall, they generally tend to not leave a perfect outline of themselves behind. Generally. But if the wall had sufficient structural integrity and was made from a material not prone to crumbling, you could get close. Also, the person walking through the wall needed to have a very hard head.
So when Sun had stormed out of Ardouin’s heavily reinforced office in a shipping crate just outside the ruins of Lorient through one of the metal walls, he’d left behind a humanoid outline, which was now being covered by a magical forcefield.
“That damn Monkey will be the death of me,” Ardouin sighed when he noticed Isaac looking.
Isaac decided not to comment as he still had some things he needed to discuss before opening that particular can of worms.
“You wanted to see me?” Isaac asked. He’d have shown up here in due time without it, but if the big cheese wanted to talk to him here, there might be something big in the works here.
“Yes,” Ardouin responded, a chair sliding in front of his desk for his guest to sit on. Isaac took this as an invitation and sat down.
“Do you know what’s going on politically right now?” Ardouin asked.
“I’ve mostly been busy making sure the prisoners are properly secured and searching for survivors, but what I saw was exactly what you’d expect it to be,” Isaac said.
In other words, the usual combination of political nonsense.
“Yep,” Ardouin nodded unhappily, “We’ve already got absolute idiots talking about how we should stop going after the cult as every time we’ve attacked them, they hit back hard.”
“Do those people know that we didn’t even go after the cult this time, and that we’d have to stop all law enforcement actions everywhere to avoid risking another fight?” Isaac asked.
“They know, obviously. That’s what makes them idiots. But ‘avoiding another tragedy’ makes for an attractive dog whistle. They’re being overridden by reasonable voices, but it’s still a pain in the ass. And on the EU and NATO level, things are moving along at a good clip. Alliances being forged, task forces being set, and so on. The information we got from that ‘anonymous source’ was quite helpful.”
Ah yes, the mysterious mystery source that was both loved and hated.
Loved because, we’ll they’d saved the investigators a lot of time at the bare minimum, and gotten information they’d never have been able to get at the maximum.
Hated because when Jason and Zambon had snuck into the various holding areas, the guards had been made to look utterly incompetent.
Once in, the procedure had been simple. Jason would loom threateningly while playing with a knife, thumbscrew, or magically heated iron poker while Zambon asked questions. They’d actually almost managed to get away clean until they’d run Schultz of all people.
Zambon had tried to pull his usual trick of predicting an enemy’s movements and then royally fucking them over via telekinesis. It had worked perfectly on the guards who’d shown up after the first dozen or so lightning bolts had hammered into the ground like the wrath of Thor, but not the pilot whose callsign named her the daughter of that very deity.
The two sneaks had run like hell, obviously, getting away slightly scorched but overall fine and absolutely laden down with information. It had been a successful raid, but it had been by no means quiet.
Ardouin seemed to take a moment to gather himself before adding, “But as much as I hate to admit it, there’s only so much regular military force can achieve here.”
“Can we table that for a bit?” Isaac asked. He did want to discuss that with the general, but he needed to say some very harsh things and there were things that they needed to talk about before he got himself kicked out.
“Fine,” Ardouin grumbled, “What do you want to talk about?”
“General administrative stuff that needs to be dealt with, I have some interesting contacts overseas that might be of some use to you, and so on.”
It wasn’t fun, but it had to be done.
So after half an hour of refining the protocols for the next time, S-Rankers converged on a specific battlefield, as well as came up with a simple set of directions that would allow them to work together more smoothly and actually coordinate.
But all too soon, the “safe” part of the conversation ended.
“I’d like to ask you to help me in hunting down the rest of the cult. You’re clearly capable and have more than proven yourself on the battlefield. The actual orders haven’t been given yet, the task forces are still being assembled, but soon, I ...”
“No, thank you, I’d rather work with someone else.” Isaac finally said, bringing the general up short. That speech might have been considered the bare minimum of politeness from most people, but from Ardouin, it was a gushing praise and it might have led to something that, for him, might be considered groveling and that would have been uncomfortable for everyone.
And it was great that Ardouin had learned to appreciate some of the civilian S-Rankers, but he still had one major other problem.
Moving on from a position of “I hate you all” to “I hate you all, but some of you are ‘one of the good ones’ and therefore I like you and everyone else is going to be treated even worse” was technically progress, but also still problematic.
“Why?” Ardouin asked bluntly, with what almost seemed like a sigh of relief at not having to be overly polite anymore.
Isaac threw a glance at the hole in the wall.
“That’s your problem?” Ardouin asked incredulously, “Are you going to tell me that I should have been nicer to that ingrate, that I owe him for what he did to that illusionist, and that that should make up for everything else?”
“He made any attempt at proper strategy impossible, and he made a massive change to the flow of battle when he took down the Illusionist. It’s possible that he even saved your life in the process.
“Both of those things are true, he helped and he messed up. But the real issue is the reason behind that hole.”
Isaac jerked his head towards the rather obvious mess that had been made of the wall.
“That could have been your head.”
“Are you threatening me?” Ardouin asked, incredulously.
“No. Just pointing out that this could have ended much worse.”
“He messed up.”
“And in response, you used more profanity in ten seconds than I did in almost eight months of training soldiers who pulled off such acts of supreme brilliance as almost bisecting themselves by running into walls holding swords equivalent to mine, or blowing themselves sky-high by using fire magic to enlarge a latrine that had already been in use. That was over the top, especially considering the fact that he did help before. If you’d talked to me that way, it’d take a long time for me to be willing to work with you again and I’d have serious doubts about whether or not we’d ever be cordial again.”
In reality, Isaac would only have worked with the general if he was the last person on planet Earth who could help.
“And that’s not mentioning how you made sure that the S-Rankers, and only the S-Rankers, could overhear this mess,” Isaac finished.
“Oh really, what did I do?”
“You only used this container’s soundproofing, which is enough to keep most people from overhearing but not the likes of me or Schultz. You wanted us to know that you aren’t above yelling at us but not want to lose your cool where your subordinates could overhear.”
“Your point?”
“I think it was a petty move, and that you lost your composure,” Isaac stated bluntly “People in the military know what they’re signing up for, blowing your top at someone who came to help. I work not just with the military, but also with anyone who can help, and while none of them are as chaotic as Sun, most of them aren’t going to put with you talking to them like you did to Sun.”
“So you think that you can talk to me about how to do my job? Would you like to take my place?” Ardouin glared at Isaac as he shot to his feet.
“No, my commanding abilities top out at the platoon level, at that point, I can’t both command and fight. But there are plenty of generals in NATO, and one of them is going to be able to take command of future operations,” Isaac pointed out, “I’m more than willing to work with you, but not for you.”
“Oh yeah, that was a good hit. Show me what you got! Come on!”
It appeared Isaac had just gotten upgraded from “boring guy of some importance” to “potentially entertaining”.
... that was almost worse than being seen as an enemy.
“I don’t think a full-powered brawl between S-Rankers in the middle of a random field is a good idea,” Isaac cautioned.
“Who said anything about full power?” Sun asked, only for Isaac to wave around his almost fully healed arm.
“I’m not exactly one for fistfights, I’d need my weapons for a proper fight, and that would be more than a little dangerous for everyone involved.”
“Come on, let’s just go into your deathless training area, I’ll clobber the [Raid Boss] and then, we can fight on top of its unconscious body!” Sun exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.
Right, that little trick. It was a fairly obvious exploit, but Isaac hadn’t wanted to deal with the sheer flood of requests that would wind up on his doorstep if it got out that he could also somewhat allow for deathless duels between people. While there might have been a benefit to further experimentation in that vein, he felt that training people to fight powerful monsters was the worthier cause.
“Ok, one fight, and regardless of who wins, we’re going to lunch later and then we’re talking about how you can help us the next time we fight the cult, and you’re going to at least try to listen, deal?”
“Deal!”
Once again, the handshake cracked bone.
But the rest of the preparation was simple, Isaac summoned the [Grave of Swords] and while he fixed his arm, Sun clobbered the Demon Lord that had appeared in the space. Isaac had chosen this particular monster as its space was pretty large.
And then, the actual fight began. Sun launched himself at Isaac with a massive grin on his face, Jingu Bang grown almost to the size of a pillar as he swung it in an overhead smash.
Isaac dodged and drew both Mimung and his Kabar across the Monkey King’s chest, both aflame and covered in a weak toxin that had been made to work on fire monsters and didn’t evaporate or burn.
Sun suddenly reversed course in an instant as he kicked off the air, forcing Isaac to dodge using [Phantom Step]. Another slash towards Sun’s chest came up short as the Monkey King suddenly transformed into a snake and bent out of the way in a move that would have shattered the spine of even a Cirque du Soleil performer, then shot his head forward to try chomping on Isaac’s nose.
Isaac leaned backwards to avoid the bite, only to be forced to roll desperately to the side when Sun shifted back and suddenly, he was above Isaac with the golden-hooped staff already in motion.
A bottle of fireproof poison shattered against Sun’s back a split second before a roiling fireball ignited his clothing and finally, a half-dozen hurled blades managed to carve small nicks into his back, but that was all.
Isaac knew he couldn’t win this. He wouldn’t waste the really expensive preparations he’d made in case Sun did truly go on a rampage in the future, and he couldn’t blow through all his cooldown [Skills] for the sake of sparring.
Everything else would just slow down his loss. Sun might not have any offensive cooldown [Skills], but his big attacks generally amounted to him deigning to spend any mana to reinforce it.
And yes, with his focus on physical Stats, Sun had an abysmal mana pool, so he couldn’t use as many [Powerful Blows] or whatever his air-stepping [Skill] was called as, say, Arthur, but his fight-finishing attacks could be spammed. Isaac’s couldn’t. In addition, there was the small issue of how much mana Isaac was spending on a second-to-second basis to heal small injuries, and keeping the flames on his sword going and that was without him having to spend even more of the precious resource to dodge.
Sun, on the other hand, could keep this up for hours if need be.
Another five minutes of constant clashing later, Isaac was down two-thirds of his mana pool and Sun was covered in nicks, scratches, and his right biceps had a huge cut taken out of it.
Once his mana pool hit zero, that was it. But despite what Sun had said, Isaac knew that an outright loss would lower him in the Monkey King’s eyes. So he sidestepped the issue.
Or backstepped, as it was.
He dropped a series of small alchemical bombs and stepped over them, then detonated them with a hurled kabar when Sun got too close, resulting in a barrage of mild swearing. So when it looked like he was about to try that again, Sun began an even greater offensive, Jingu Bang grown ever larger ... until Isaac spent the last of his mana to teleport to the other end of the pocket space while the staff obliterated the stunned Demon Lord’s skull.
Monster dead, pocket space closed, fight over.
“Nice going,” Isaac commented, “I don’t have the mana to reactivate that [Skill]. So, lunch?”
“Lunch,” Sun agreed.
A portal irised open before Isaac and the pair stepped through onto Scottish soil.
A random pub in the middle of a National Park should be the safest to have a conversation like this, mostly because A. there were fewer people to potentially call journalists and B. the likelihood of someone who might want to bother them having a portal mage who’d been there before was pretty slim.
As for why a pub, it was simple. Isaac did not want to deal with the waiters at a more upscale restaurant commenting on their table manners, or the fact that Sun was something of a Gourmand.
“Good afternoon,” Isaac greeted the man behind the bar, “Do you have a table for two?”
When the barkeeper nodded, he went on, “We’d like one of everything to start with, and please, keep bringing plates of fries and the like if it looks like my friend is getting low. And I’d like to pay upfront.”
The bartender’s eyes grew wide as Isaac handed over three thousand pounds.
Sun and Isaac talked about general combat while they waited on the food, safe under the aegis of Isaac’s anti-eavesdropping [Skill]. Then the food did arrive and Sun all but vacuumed up half the food in ten seconds flat.
“Ish good,” he mumbled, mouth still full.
“Great,” Isaac replied after taking a bite of his burger, “So, the reason I wanted to meet with you was because we’re going to be hitting the cult once we have a target, and I was wondering if you would be willing to come along.”
“Obvishously,” Sun told him around a mouthful of burger.
“Here’s the thing, it won’t work if you just run off on your own like last time. We’d be giving you targets and try to coordinate who fights who and breaks what.”
“Sho?”
“I think it might work best if you’re our secret weapon. Kept outside enemy detection range, ready to be dropped right where they don’t want you to be via a portal at the most inconvenient possible time.”
It would also ensure he couldn’t blow up the plan by attacking prematurely.
Sun swallowed and finally fixed Isaac with a hard stare, “I’m not an idiot, you’re just trying to make sure I don’t do anything stupid.”
“Can you blame me for wanting to guarantee you follow the plan?” Isaac asked.
“It’s a stupid plan if it breaks just because I show up,” Sun shrugged, “There’d better be food while I’m waiting, and don’t you dare keep me on the bench for the entire fight.”
“I think we can arrange that,” Isaac said as he went back to the bar to order again.
Two hours later, there was not a scrap of food left in the Winking Owl, Sun looked like a beach ball, and the pair returned to their respective homes.
Isaac just hoped that the gentleman’s agreement they’d hammered out would stick.
