Chapter 14

  Grandmaster…Really?

  I’d been expecting to have to retrace our steps to return to the entrance to the Tower. Thankfully, it turned out there was a tunnel at the end of each floor that led directly there. I was tempted to ask how it worked, but the thought of another lecture on the ‘mysteries of the arcane’ from Rel was enough to kill the idea instantly.

  It wasn’t a case of ‘curiosity killed the cat’; it was more like ‘the smug squirrel killed the curiosity’.

  Ever since the troll attack, Kaelis had been very subdued. I was fairly certain I’d caught him shooting nervous glances in our direction more than once. I suppose a change in behaviour is to be expected after having a horde of angry trolls kick the shit out of you for thirty seconds straight.

  It was as the gate came into view that Kaelis finally broke his silence. He turned to face me and Rel, then dropped to his knees.

  “I apologise most sincerely for any offence I may have caused by hiring you as my attendants,” he said, fear dripping from every word. “Had I known who you were, I would never have dared to presume I was worthy of such an honour. I would understand if you chose to end my life, but I can only hope you will show mercy to a poor, clueless fool. I meant no harm by it!”

  I stared at him, a little lost for words.

  What the fuck was he on about?

  “Kaelis…" I said. “We asked for the job.”

  He shook his head violently.

  “I should have known!” he replied. “Only a complete fool fails to recognise when they are standing in the presence of greatness!”

  “Greatness? I’m not sur…” I began to say, before Rel cut me off.

  “Indeed,” said Rel with a dignified nod. “Greatness is an appropriate word, I’d say. If anything, it doesn’t quite capture the majesty of my being…”

  He walked over to Kaelis, who flinched slightly at his approach, and patted him reassuringly on the leg.

  “Fear not, brave Trialist,” he continued. “The great Magus Rel is widely celebrated across the land for his mercy and compassion. You need not fear any retribution from us for your grave insult.”

  Kaelis’s eyes actually teared up a little, and he gazed at Rel with something approaching worship.

  I just stood there, staring, my mouth hanging open so wide that I’m surprised my jaw didn’t break.

  “I’m… I…,” I said, stumbling over my words. “You arrogant little shit!”

  Rel turned a pitying look on me.

  “Ignore him, Kaelis,” said Rel, shaking his head sadly. “Peter sometimes finds it difficult to come to terms with the fact that I hold two Leaderboard positions, while he only holds one.”

  Kaelis nodded in understanding.

  “You should not feel ashamed for that. To hold even one position on the Leaderboard is a testament to your skill and power,” he said consolingly.

  I was surrounded by crazy people…

  “Magus Rel, Pete,” said Kaelis, his eyes flicking nervously between the two of us. “I know it is bold of me to ask, especially considering the insult I have already given, but would you… consider taking me on as your disciple?”

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  His words sped up towards the end, as though he were afraid he’d lose his nerve before he could finish asking.

  Our disciple?

  “Listen, Kaelis,” I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to his feet. “Rel and I are intending to return to the Tower tomorrow and spend some time exploring the place. You’re welcome to join us, but I don’t want to hear any more of this ‘disciple’ nonsense.”

  “Yes, Master,” he replied, bowing deeply.

  “Just call me Pete. Please. For the love of God,” I said, a hint of hysteria lacing my words.

  “Speak for yourself…” began Rel.

  He paused, as if a profound thought had just occurred to him.

  “In fact. If you’re planning to refer to him as Master,” he continued, gesturing in my direction, “then it seems only right that I – the person who guided Pete to reach his current heights – should be referred to as ‘Grandmaster’.”

  “Thank you, Pete,” said Kaelis, bowing to me. He then bowed to Rel, just a little deeper.

  “Thank you, Grandmaster.”

  I walked over to the gate. If I’d stayed any longer, I’m not sure I could have resisted the overwhelming urge to throttle Rel.

  Once we’d passed the guards, I turned to face the other two.

  “Right. First things first,” I said, gesturing to my clothes. “We need to head to the tailors. Honestly, I look disgusting.”

  “You do,” agreed Rel. “Your clothes don’t look great either.”

  Breathe, Pete. Breathe…

  “The tailors?” asked Kaelis, frowning. “Master, you don’t need to visit a tailor – the Trialist Accommodation Centre here at the Tower provides for all of our needs.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you, my name’s Pete!” I snapped… then his words sank in. “What do you mean ‘all of our needs’?”

  “Sorry, Master Pete!” he said with a bow. “Indeed, we are provided with a room, clothing, food and anything else we require to aid our progression. I actually need to visit the quartermaster to request that my armour be repaired.”

  “Then we’d better head over there right now,” I said excitedly, a world of possibilities opening before my eyes.

  * * *

  “I don’t understand, sir,” said the quartermaster, the smallest hint of judgment leaking through his polite veneer. “You want five identical copies of your current outfit?”

  He glanced down at my tattered, bloodstained peasant garb, clearly struggling with the idea that anybody would want to wear such clothing by choice.

  “But, sir,” he continued. “Some of the finest tailors, leatherworkers and blacksmiths from across the region work here. They can craft custom gear suited to your needs and will even work alongside the resident Magus to apply enchantments that greatly enhance its effectiveness.”

  “These enchantments,” I said, leaning over the counter a little. “What do they do?”

  The quartermaster looked a little uncomfortable at the sudden intensity of my gaze.

  “W… We offer a range of powerful enchantments that can reduce the damage you take from attacks,” he said.

  I waved my hand dismissively.

  “I don’t care about the damage I take,” I said. “Do you offer anything that protects the clothing itself? Perhaps a self-repair or self-cleaning enchantment?”

  “You don’t care…” he began, but then took a nervous step back when I leaned even closer, my feet now almost leaving the floor. “I will have to consult the Magus, but I think something like that should be possible.”

  I nodded enthusiastically, a manic glint in my eyes.

  “Excellent…” I muttered under my breath, before I explained the rest of my idea. “Seeing as you work with the finest tailors in the region, they should have no trouble crafting cloth armour that looks exactly like what I’m wearing now. Then I want the self-repair and self-cleaning enchantments applied to it.”

  I was going to be unstoppable!

  “Yes, sir,” said the quartermaster, who now looked like he would agree to anything if it meant I’d leave sooner. “I’ll even rush the job through and have it ready by morning. In the meantime, we’ll provide you a set of clean clothing.”

  I’d stopped listening, my imagination already running wild…

  A heroic peasant-turned-warrior battles his way through the Tower of Potential, looking incredibly stylish as he lays waste to his enemies. The blood of his foes is splattered across his armour, but it slowly fades away until he once again looks pristine.

  Men - and squirrels - want to be him. Women want to be with him.

  Yes… this would work perfectly.

  Kaelis stepped forward, withdrawing the mangled armour from his inventory.

  “I’ll need this repaired by tomorrow morning, too,” he said.

  The quartermaster’s eyes went wide as they ran over the huge dents in the armour. He looked back up at Kaelis, his expression holding an equal measure of disbelief and respect.

  “You survived the attacks that caused this damage?” he said, with a small shake of his head. “You must be quite the warrior. Very well, I’ll have that rushed through too. Is that all?”

  Kaelis and I nodded, but Rel cleared his throat.

  “I might have a few ideas…” he said, then turned to face us. “You two go on ahead and get cleaned up. This won’t take long.”

  As we turned to leave, Rel jumped onto the counter, demanding that the quartermaster hand him some paper so he could 'share his vision’.

  That couldn’t be good…