“Hey Gamielle?”

  “Mhmm?”

  “What’s dying like?”

  Larix snapped his pen and froze. Gamielle fell out of the air as her body slammed into the ground. She coughed.

  “Fuck’s sake Ryan! Give a girl a bit of a warning before you hit her with something like that.”

  He folded his arms, a little annoyed that she had shouted his real name in front of Larix. Then again, that might have been the equivalent of her deflecting his opening strike. The [Mage] stood up and dusted herself off, shaking her head at him.

  “Figured that one out did you? And here I was thinking it would take longer.”

  Ryan’s face gave nothing away. he thought. No matter what the Witch Tyrant had promised, it was probably a good thing for Milock to stay out of the Witch Tyrant’s radar.

  Gamielle looked over to the frozen sect leader. She walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder.

  “Larix. Little Larry? You can leave, okay?”

  The man stood up, not meeting Gamielle’s or Ryan’s face. Ryan had expected something like a ‘how dare you!’ or some form of severe scolding. Instead the sect leader stood up with a completely haunted expression. He stepped out of the room.

  Ryan didn’t miss the slight tremor in Larix’s hands.

  “Ah shit.”

  “You’re an asshole for that one.” Gamielle confirmed, “I’m guessing you came here with a plan, throw me off balance then interrogate me?”

  The glint in her eyes indicated that the duel had started. She had seen through Ryan completely and was giving him a warning. Gamielle was expecting this argument to be a duel, something where they’d fight with words and he would come prepared. Unfortunately for both of them, he really didn’t have a good plan for this conversation. There were too many unknowns. Ryan just shrugged casually.

  “I was just curious what dying felt like, that’s all. I never did get to use the safety life that everyone else got.”

  Gamielle scoffed at him as she took a seat opposite of Ryan. She snapped her fingers and a bottle of whiskey appeared in midair. She took out two glasses and poured, one for him and one for her.

  She gave him a conspiratorial look.

  “The safety life? The Trial System waits until the last moment to rip you away before you die. The pain goes soul deep and can take years to fix if you don’t become realmbound. The wrenching of your soul can cause memory loss, change in mentality and cause constant phantom pain. It’s why a lot of adventurers just jump straight back into System portals. Be glad you won’t have to go through the pain cause the Manager was so to take that option away from you.”

  Ryan smirked, “Manager’s blasted asshole, right?”

  They toasted that with a clink. Then Gamielle poured the drink down, relishing in the taste of a good drink. She looked so alive, drinking alcohol and defying her mother’s ban on food and drink.

  Her eyes drifted as she answered his actual question.

  “The second death? That one I don’t know. One day I blew up, a few years later I woke up in front of my mother. That’s all.”

  “Huh, and you’re just… uhm…”

  “A figment of a grieving mother’s mind? Yup.”

  “Damn.”

  Gamielle sniffed, “Tell me about it.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  She poured another glass and swirled the drink, Gamielle let the silence linger. Like she was waiting for condemnation from a Tyrant. It didn’t come. Gamielle cautiously took another sip.

  “Another time, no mother should have to hear of her daughter’s death. Especially not from her own daughter.” Gamielle turned to the ceiling, “I know you’re listening, you old bat! Give us some privacy!”

  When no reply came she just scoffed and downed another glass. Ryan joined in, marveling at the idea that the ghost in front of her was truly drinking the same thing he was. All of this could still have been an illusion. Down to the liquid hitting his stomach. If Epics like his could reach across dimensions and take power from those watching him then a Legend could perhaps recreate a daughter and let her drink and savor it. It was still crazy.

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  Ryan went back to the conversation.

  “Does that mean you have your own memories? Of her… I mean you?”

  “You come so woefully unprepared and you fish for information? You’re ruining the moment.”

  “I wanted a genuine discussion. I’m not fishing, I just want to know if you’re the actual Gamielle or a recreation of someone your mother believed you to be.”

  They both stared at each other. Gamielle sighed.

  “My memories are my own. My mother can see what I’ve done but she won’t intrude into my actual mind. There’s too much a mother shouldn’t see, if you know what I mean.”

  Gamielle waggled her eyebrows. Her attempt at lightening up the conversation did nothing to Ryan. She clicked her tongue in annoyance.

  “You’re too serious. But, if things go right… or really wrong, you’ll understand soon enough.”

  “Well that’s not ominous at all. So what? Her Legend really is something like [Illusions unto Reality] and she can make anything real? Even for a Legend that seems ridiculous.”

  Gamielle didn’t answer his question. Ryan took that moment to down the glass in front of him. It wasn’t magical whiskey, just a very strong mundane one. Every time Gamielle drank she would pause, expecting some sign of condemnation from the Witch Tyrant. When she drank her third glass she just looked towards the sliding doors.

  Her eyes didn’t stop staring outside as she asked Ryan a question.

  “What do you think of the Obsidian Sect?”

  “It’s nice. I can’t see myself living here though.”

  Gamielle rolled her eyes, “That was never the point Ryan. What do you think of the Obsidian Sect?”

  “They’re inspiring. I don’t think I could do what they could.”

  “After everything you’ve done, you say this now?”

  Ryan was unsure what to say. He thought back to his own past. When it became clear that he wasn’t good enough for a sponsorship slot in the Trial System, he had given up. Dropping the sword for a realistic path. In that sense, the passionate sect was hard to watch, they burned so bright, climbing a wall that was even higher than what he’d faced.

  They tried so hard… yet they would never match up to the adventurers in skill.

  “I don’t know. At least I know with the Trial System I’m rewarded for my efforts. The Obsidian Sect…”

  Ryan trailed off, unwilling to say the words. Gamielle finished it for him.

  “They’re doomed. Whether the Tyrants live or die, without support this place will fail.”

  That wasn’t the point he was trying to make. Instead of saying that their dreams were hopeless she’d skipped to the end and painted a bleaker picture. The idea that this place would fail without any aid.

  So, that’s what Gamielle wanted from him. Why she had been happy to introduce him in the sect leader’s robes. Then revealing his face to everyone. Constantly humanizing him to the sect. Constantly humanizing the sect to him.

  Gamielle had never intended to keep Artigan a secret.

  The [Mage] summoned a packet of chips, took one out and slowly took a bite. She genuinely seemed surprised that she was able to bite through and took a handful and tried to stuff her cheeks. They disappeared before they entered her mouth. No doubt the Witch Tyrant disapproving of such unladylike behavior from her daughter.

  Gamielle scowled and blew a raspberry at the air.

  Ryan shifted uncomfortably. The reminder that the Witch Tyrant was actually watching unnerved him a little.

  “Why would the Obsidian Sect not get support from your mother?”

  “It never did. I was the idiot that brought the scattered Realmers into a single sect. I demanded the scrolls from my mom and brought them here. Then I let them all think it was my mother supporting them from the shadows,” Gamielle sighed again, “A cultivator or a mage behind every blade of grass! I didn’t think about why the idea was abandoned by my mother in the first place.”

  “The idea was abandoned? That doesn’t sound right.”

  It didn’t make sense for something like this to be abandoned. Sure, they weren’t that powerful compared to dragonslayers but a force of ten thousand realm 3 to realm 5 cultivators weren’t something to laugh at either. The elders like Gudriel were even comparable to seventh realm adventurers.

  The answer wasn’t what he expected.

  “This place will be the first in line for any real war. If the Tyrants disappear. If adventurers keep pushing to carve out their own kingdoms in The Realm or if the realm expansions get deadly enough. The Obsidian Sect will be there, on the front lines. Fighting for the Realmers.”

  Gamielle downed another glass.

  It took a moment but he understood what she was saying. Gamielle cared for these people, she knew them all by name. She often sat there looking into space, watching the sect members training or playing around. For her this wasn’t just a cult or a sect. It was a community she led.

  And they were readying themselves for a battle where they’d just be dragon fodder.

  Ryan shook his head, suddenly wishing he could get drunk faster.

  “I’m not leading these people, that’s crazy talk.”

  “I’m not asking you to lead them, that would be a terrible idea.”

  “.”

  The [Mage] rolled her eyes, “I’m asking you to stick around and consider yourself a member of the Obsidian Sect. Aura specialists work best when they work with the emotions of those around them. Your aura already has a feedback loop built into it. I can see a path to shift you from intimidation to relentlessness and reverence. If we build on that then you could have a constant, stable source of fuel for your Epic. Ryan, the Obsidian Sect could be your seat of power.”

  “Ah.”

  Ryan really had come unprepared for this debate. There it was again. Temptation and a vision of promised power. Except this time it sounded like a good deal, an honest deal for honest power.

  Ryan took a huge swig of alcohol. It did nothing to quench the feeling of wrongness from the words coming out of Gamielle’s mouth.. Not for him to become the leader, but to be some sort of guardian to the Obsidian Sect.

  It was stupid but… she did almost get him.

  A few more days and it might have been too late. He might have actually started developing feelings for the Obsidian Sect.

  Ryan took some time, and another glass of whiskey. He did not rush the conversation but deliberated on the feeling of wrongness that he felt. When he felt ready, he straightened up. Finally ready for this duel.

  “No Gamielle, I won’t be the guardian of these people. That’s insulting.”

  “”

  There was a crackle in the air as lines of runes started coalescing around Gamielle. It did not wash over him like a tide, in fact, Ryan felt nothing physical from the aura. Every single bit of it was forming into a magical script without a single bit of waste. A perfectly magically attuned aura. Beyond the realm of most, if not all dragonslayers. Only the Archmage Tyrant’s aura was seen to be similar to this.

  Gamielle’s eyes flashed in complex spell circles.

  Despite his words being obvious bait, she was truly furious. The idea of Ryan believing he was too good to be the guardian of Obsidian Sect had set her beyond any possible calm.

  He smiled in the wake of her anger.

  “Insulting to . The Obsidian Sect has some of the most passionate people I’ve met. Having an adventurer looking after them, protecting them like that, would be the most insulting thing to all their efforts. You give them no respect by mothering them, Gamielle.”

  Gamielle’s rising aura shattered from his words. This time, Ryan had truly succeeded in throwing her off-balance. Now was the time to strike.

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