Published at 21st of February 2024 11:03 pm

Chapter 2.73 The Council Of Ygg

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“So, are we in agreement?” Utpal Banerjee asked. The Daksinsthani sat on the five-person city council to speak for the interests and protection of all merchants. “You're happy to keep your involvement in recent events quiet?”

Nox nodded. “It's better for everyone if my party and I minimize what we did. If asked, we won't deny visiting the dungeon but will not speak of the Cabal or Plaguebringer. We're in no shape to deal with a shadow organization of high experts and archmages.”

“Good. It's best if we pin the change of leadership in the dungeon and peace with Terrastalia on the late Kristen Greengrasse—”

“She only used the name Kris in all professional and social circles,” Dean Woodson interrupted. “I'd prefer if we keep that consistent in our records.”

“Very well.” Utpal Banerjee sighed. “So, Sir Ratra, you're fine with us naming Kris as the sole hero in this regard? I'm afraid a living hero might draw too much attention from unwanted parties to the city.”

“I am.” Nox shot Dean Woodson a small smile. “To be fair, none of this would've happened if she didn't sacrifice her life for the party.” He clasped his scarred and ungloved left wrist. “Sure, I made a few personal sacrifices, too, but I've benefited enough from it already.”

“What did you get out of it?” Dean Oleg asked. He dwarfed his fellow council members. The five sat around a sizeable crescent-shaped table, looking down at Nox. “Besides worse mana burn and an inheritance.”

“A few relics, advancements to my mana system—only time will tell whether they're good or bad—and your favor, of course. The latter is vital to any new business.”

“You had our favor following your contributions to the city's defense,” Lord Highwater said. He and Dean Elgin Thorpe were dear friends and oversaw the city’s defense together. He spoke for the Nobles Quarter’s interests, too. “Mushroom farms are popping up in the countryside, thanks to you. The land will soon see a new fertile and prosperous age.”

The meeting with the full council in their official chambers wasn't as daunting as Nox expected. He had already spent an hour with them, providing his testimony regarding Terrastalia, his appearance, Lillin, their relationship, and everything he had learned about Plaguebringer and her followers. They had a truth-sayer present who read Nox’s psychic waves and vitals to ensure he didn't lie. He suspected the council mostly wished to know if they could trust Lillin. Cooperating with a dungeon lord was a first, after all, and the City of Ygg had spent most of its century-long existence arming people against such threats.

Joey and the Woodsons had already provided their testimony prior to the exams, and Nox was granted the privilege of hearing them. Caitlin felt ashamed of her performance but apparently only regretted getting captured in the first place. She believed fleeing with her brother, and a future druid was vital to Ygg and to the future of humanity. Caitlin felt sad for Kris, of course, but she prioritized Alexander over everything else. Meanwhile, Joey still hadn't recovered from the guilt around the circumstances of Kris’ passing. If not for her, he'd still be a thief and struggling to survive amongst the gangs, fences, and crime lords in the outer rings.

“Now, let's discuss a more delicate matter,” Utpal Banerjee said.

“The Singhs?” Nox asked.

The Daksinsthani councilman nodded. “Even though they’re still in our custody, they tried to send someone after Hilda Dahl. The family suspects you were behind their fall and probably want to use Miss Dahl for confirmation.”

“Are you at liberty to share their sentence?” Nox asked. “I need to know what kind of security I need.”

“Exile and forfeiture of all property,” Lord Highwater said. “If they or their ten top-paid employees return to the City of Ygg or the settlements under our protection, they’ll suffer a long prison sentence.” The man leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowing. “I’ll have you know, Sir Ratra, we take threats and attacks on the city seriously. Even though your hand in the disaster was indirect—”

“As far as we know,” Lady Elenor Schmidt added. She was the youngest and most silent of all council members. Her ice-cold glare told Nox she cared little for him and disliked the current attention and privileges he enjoyed.

“Even though your hand in the disaster was indirect, we’re keeping our eye on you,” Lord Highwater continued, ignoring the interruption. “Dean Oleg and Mr Banerjee might disagree with our stance, but the rest agree that you’re too young and reckless. You might not have ill will toward the city, but you forget restraint in the name of ambition and drive.”

Nox remained silent. It was tempting to smile, but he maintained a neutral expression. It wasn’t the first time people in power had reprimanded him and accused him of probable crimes. He was used to such treatment because of the Gedges and Mercers. Given how Nox operated, he doubted it would be the last time he received such warnings.

“I think what Lord Highwater means to say is we need your help,” Dean Oleg said. “We want the fungal mountain in Market Ring removed and can’t do so without significantly damaging the structure, neighboring properties, or city infrastructure. As the city’s only living and non-criminal expert on the fungus, we were hoping you’d provide your expertise on the matter.”

“For adequate compensation, of course,” Mr Banerjee added.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be an easy task,” Nox said. “I can do it, of course, but—”

“And this is where he takes us for all we have.” Lady Schmidt sighed, rolling her eyes.

Nox ignored the jibe. “The ingredients for safe removal with minimal collateral damage don’t come cheap. The process is long and labor-intensive, too. Production will get in the way of my contracts with the city, university, and other clients. I know the peak season for social events and delving has passed, but the rifts and new monster colonies are bringing a lot of business to the city. Helping you means losing out on a lot of profit. Let's not forget—”

“Why don’t you just skip all the nonsense and say what the blight you want?” the councilwoman demanded.

“I want the Round Table and the attached estate.”

“Are you mad?”

“You’re overestimating your worth,” Lord Highwater said, echoing Lady Schmidt’s sentiment. “Despite its current state, the former Singh estate is in a prime location and one of the most valuable properties in the city. We can’t just give it to you for cleaning up Market Ring. You need to provide us with an itemized list and quote, and we can debate your compensation afterward.”

“I could just as equally argue that I’ve done all in my power and means for the city,” Nox replied. “No one would blame me if I rejected your request for my business’ sake. I’m sure there are others who can remove the fungus, but the section of Market Ring will suffer significant damage and drop in property value.”

“Why do you even need that much real estate, Nox Ratra?” Dean Woodson asked. She had maintained a mostly apathetic stance during the meeting. The druid neither attacked nor defended Nox. He expected such a position. His friendship with the Woodsons was public knowledge, and any favors would be called nepotism. In fact, Nox believed Dean Woodson disliked how he went about business and suspected the Singh incident was an intentional act. Her not punishing Nox was already enough to highlight her bias. “I imagine you need a large workshop or two for large-scale production and perhaps a research laboratory. Don’t you think the Round Table is far too large for your intended purpose?”

“I’d like to diversify my investment portfolio.” Nox shrugged. “The bars, eateries, and entertainment rooms are excellent rental spaces. I’d like to lease them out to other businesses. The ballroom and hallway are excellent for meetings, events, and other gatherings. Meanwhile, the workshops and living space above would be for my personal use.”

“Do you really think you have enough loyal manpower to operate such a large space?” Mr Banerjee raised an eyebrow. “I admire your ambition, Mr Ratra, but I worry you’re underestimating what it takes to own, operate, and maintain a property of such magnitude.”

“I have a close relationship with Houses Oakheart, Edelweiss, and the Trade Empire.” Nox said. “I’m sure I can count on them for assistance on such an endeavor.”

“We seriously can’t be considering this, can we?” Lady Schmidt asked. “It's ridiculous the Round Table needs to go to someone we’ve known longer and can trust.”

“The city needs relics and capital to recover from the recent disasters,” Lord Highwater declared. “We can neither afford nor tolerate such behavior. The council is grateful for all you’ve done, but you’re currently trying to take advantage of us.”

“Isn’t that what business and politics is?” Nox smiled at the council. “Parties manipulating supply and demand and then exploiting them for financial or social gain?” He continued before the offended council members could reply. “But since it’s a relic you want, perhaps there’s something I can offer to balance the scales.”

Nox saw a flicker of a smile on Dean Woodson’s face when he summoned Otis. The gremlin had changed over the course of the past week. He wasn’t any bigger, but the bristly fur had smoothed and turned glossy. His arms were longer and more wiry. He had a third eye, and the teeth lining his giant mouth reminded Nox of Lillin’s mimic maw. Otis expanded, and black replaced his fleshy interior. A huge tentacle-like tongue pushed Clementine’s throne out of the dimensional storage within.

“How’s this for a fair trade?” Nox asked, sitting down on the still-floating seat. He felt an uncomfortable presence probe him. It attempted to penetrate his mind and extract a mote of mana. Nox repelled the relic’s touch. It made him sickly and uncomfortable. The discomfort in his left arm had faded, but it returned with new life. “I’ll trade the Plaguebringer’s relic for the Round Table and no property taxes.”

“I’d rather we, the city council, confiscate the dangerous relic,” Lady Schmidt said. “It's our duty as the state’s leaders to—”

“You’d have every right to take it if I were trying to use or sell the throne.” Nox smiled politely. “I studied the bylaws on the matter, Councilwoman Schmidt. As long as I only keep it for study, you have no claim on the relic, no matter how dangerous it is.”

“What could you possibly get out of that? You’re a delver. A stationary relic is of no use to you.” Lord Highwater’s cold expression slipped. His eyes betrayed his desire to study the ancient tool of power. “The throne’s magic looks and feels perverse and ancient.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m a decent Spell Weaver, Lord Highwater. Kris’ inheritance encouraged me to break into ward crafting, too. Since I can’t delve currently, perhaps the throne will help me fill my time. The runes and scripts might be ancient, but the throne has a lot to teach my apprentice and me.”

“Why don’t we arrest him for insolence and endangering the city?” Lady Schmidt asked. “Then we can confiscate the chair, his properties, and recipes, too?”

“Because that’s not how we do things here,” Dean Oleg said. “What kind of message does it send if we imprison and punish an individual that’s saved the city? Is that what we want to tell the world? Serve us. Obey us? Or we take everything from you?”

“Correct. Confiscating belongings outside the purview of the law will discourage investors and businesses from coming to the city.” Mr Banerjee frowned as he spoke. The suggestion appeared to have enraged him. His jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, yet his tone remained calm and polite. “Sir Ratra has presented a reasonable offer, and I think it's in our best interests to consider it.”

“Seconded.” Dean Oleg voted.

“I’m for it, too.” Lord High Water said. “However, a full tax holiday on one of the Market Ring’s most desired and valuable properties feels like a bit much.”

“Don’t you think desirability and value have dropped after the Singh debacle?” Nox asked. “Sure, I can clean it up, but significant structural and cosmetic damage will still occur. Recovering its reputation will take a lot of work, too.”

“How about a tax delay of two years?” Lady Schmidt suggested.

“I think you know well that it will take a year to make the property useable enough to make an adequate profit, Elanor,” Dean Woodson said, finally contributing to the discussion. She sounded tired and annoyed. “Everyone knows you want the Round Table. When he fails to pay backlog taxes in two years, you plan to forfeit it and purchase it through the banks.”

“I knew it!” Lady Schmidt exclaimed. “You favor this man because of your niece and nephew.”

“I’ve taken a back seat on this matter to avoid displaying any favor or nepotism. But believe me, any bias I have is against Sir Nox Ratra. I only want fairness because he was my late apprentice’s student. Otherwise, my stances on his business and fate wouldn’t be as favorable. I’d argue you’re biased against Nox because the Smythe raid caused your people to be investigated.”

“Watch it, you geriatric witch—”

Dean Oleg smashed his giant fist on the stone table, making everyone but the old druid groan. “I will not tolerate disrespect towards our savior and the founder of this city. Don’t forget, Elanor Schmidt, your position in this council is probationary. We only allowed the inheritance of the role because of the lack of worthy candidates. I’ll bet that if I were to start a vote, at least three council members would petition to have you removed.”

“How about we display civility in front of our citizen?” Mr Banerjee asked, still maintaining his professional tone. “Such behavior and talk is unbecoming of the city’s rulers. Although, I’d recommend you take Oleg’s threat seriously, Miss Schmidt.”

“It’s Lady Schmidt,” the woman said, rolling her eyes.

“I have a suggestion that will please all parties,” Nox said. “It will take me some time to get the Round Table up and running. Finding tenants might take even longer. Instead of standard taxes, how about I pay you a percentage of all my profits? As the business grows and I get more tenants, my earnings will increase. Two percent sounds reasonable. Right?”

“Don’t make me laugh.” Lord Highwater’s eyes hadn’t left the throne since the moment Nox revealed it. “The standard tax is twenty percent and fifteen for allies of the city.”

“But this is anything but standard, Lord Highwater. I’m offering you something priceless that deserves greater consideration. How about we start at two and escalate by a percent every year until we reach ten?” Nox sat back on the throne and crossed his legs. “The city gets its due, my services, and contracts at a reasonable rate. In exchange, I make enough profit to stay in business and continue contributing to making the continent safer for humanity. My mana system might be in a dire state, but I’m not done with my ambition of destroying Sundarshahar.”

“I believe that sounds reasonable,” Mr Banerjee said. “Should we have a vote?”

Everyone but Elanor Schmidt voted in Nox’s favor.

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