Book 9, Chapter 54 (1/2)
To Follow
“Wait, what? You want to become Richard Archeron’s follower now?” the grand mage almost jumped in surprise, “Are you insane? You’ll have to fight the reapers! We aren’t even legends, killing these demons is hard enough! Are you hoping for your family to collect the compensation or something?”
Despite his friend’s attempts to dissuade him, Romney’s eyes glowed with determination, “No, I’ve decided to do it. Doesn’t matter if I die in battle, but if I pull through my name will be written down in Norland’s history!”
“You’ve… actually gone insane, haven’t you?”
“No, I haven’t. Join me!” Romney wanted to pull the man along.
“Nope, there’s no way. I’m not coming with you, no matter what you say.”
Romney gritted his teeth in response. He really wanted to speak about the gorgon head, but he had sworn himself to secrecy on that front. Instead, he held the man’s hand sincerely, “You know I wouldn’t harm you. I feel like this is our only chance; if we miss the opportunity to sign a contract with Lord Richard, we’ll never get it again. Come with me!”
”Of course not!” the grand mage stood his ground.
Romney looked at the grand mage with regret, eventually turning around to leave. Looking at his departing back, the man panicked for a split second and wondered whether he truly had made the wrong choice in the situation. However, that fear was quickly suppressed by the much greater terror he felt when it came to the reapers. The casualty reports from Faelor’s battlefields froze him in place.
……
In the celestial laboratory in Sharon’s demiplane, Richard was working on an analytical model of the reaper warships. He had just finished with the medium-sized ones and marked some finishing touches when a bell rang in the hall, signalling a medium-priority request for his presence. Stopping his analysis, he left the demiplane to return to Bluewater.
In the guest chambers of his residence, Romney was walking about nervously as he awaited his fate. He tried looking outside to calm his stress, but he was met with the sight of two enormous portals that seemed like they led to other planes. He was surprised to find that it was commoners entering these portals, not troops; with hundreds walking through every minute, a quick estimate told him that Richard was spending hundreds of thousands of gold every hour to teleport them out.
“It’s called the Bridge of Hope; its a way for my citizens to retreat to safer planes,” Richard’s voice suddenly rang out from behind him.
“Y-Your Grace!” Romney jumped in shock, quickly turning around to bow.
Richard pointed at the sofa and smiled, “Sit. I hear you wish to become a follower of mine? You should know what that means, right?”