Re:Birth: A Slow Burn LitRPG Mage Regressor-Chapter 44. Dominoes Waiting To Fall

The Veyshari camp was alive with color and sound and constant motion, despite the winter chill. Steam rose from the massive bonfire at the center, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold sea breeze coming off the shore.

The massive bonfire roared at its heart, sparks dancing up into the darkening sky and the sea crashed against the shore nearby as its rhythm mixed with the sounds of music and laughter.

Adom watched as a group of children sprinted past through the packed snow, their faces curious and bright as they spotted him and their breaths forming little clouds in the air.

"Chovihano tikno! Chovihano tikno!" they called out, pointing at him. Though he didn't understand their words, their excitement was clear enough. One small boy, wrapped in a thick woolen coat, brandished a wooden sword, demonstrating with enthusiastic swings while chattering rapidly in their musical language.

Adom smiled and waved, glancing at Sam who stayed close to his side, clearly overwhelmed by all the activity. Near the cooking fires that dotted the snowy camp, women in colorful skirts and heavy shawls danced to the music, their curious glances following the newcomers.

"Sammenel!" Maria, Adom's mother, shouted Sam's name through the bustle. She stood up from her workbench near one of the larger tents, setting aside what looked like half-finished potions. Her hair was tied back loosely, herbs and reagents scattered across her workspace, protected from the snow by the tent's awning.

"Hello, Mrs. Sylla," Sam called back with a small bow of his head, the gesture making Adom roll his eyes.

Same old Sam, proper as always.

Those friends who acted so perfectly behaved around parents were usually the masterminds behind the worst idea - but not Sam. He meant every courteous word, every proper gesture.

Had to drag him kicking and screaming into anything remotely questionable. And now here he was, plotting against the Crown Prince himself. Come to think of it, Adom realized with a sudden pang of guilt, he might have been the bad influence all along.

"Oh, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Auntie?" his mother laughed, making her way over. She pulled Sam into a quick hug, then held him at arm's length, her eyes scanning him in that way that always made Adom feel like she could see right through him.

"Look at you," Maria said warmly to Sam, studying his face. "Those morning training sessions Adom told me about are showing. How's your family? How's your sister, little Elena doing with her reading? She's what, nine now?"

"Oh, she's good," Sam replied, relaxing slightly. "Finally got through that book of fairy tales you recommended. She won't stop talking about the dragon stories. And yes, she nine now!"

"And your father? Still running the merchant guild ragged?"

"Someone has to keep them organized," Sam smiled. "Though he's been worried about... everything that's happening."

Maria's expression softened. "And your mother?"

"Ah. The same." Sam's voice quieted. "The healers say there's been no change."

Maria pulled him closer for another brief hug. "We'll find something that helps. I've been looking into some old remedies - there are always new paths to try."

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"Oh, um, thank you, Mrs- I mean, Auntie Maria. I mean. I'll tell Mother-" Sam stumbled over his words.

"Sam." She reached out, squeezing his shoulder gently. "You're taking a huge risk, helping Adom with all this."

"Mother," Adom started, but she held up a hand.

"No, this needs to be said." She looked Sam in the eyes. "Thank you. For being there for my son, for believing in him. Not many would take such risks for a friend."

Sam shifted uncomfortably under the praise. "H-He'd do the same for me."

"Yes," she smiled. "He would."

More children had gathered around them, some tugging at Sam's clothes curiously, others pestering Adom with rapid questions in their language.

She glanced between them. "Now, I hear you two have something to take care of?"

"Yes," Sam answered, perhaps a touch too quickly, his composure slipping just slightly. "We should probably..."

"Go on then," she said. "I'll be here working on these healing potions. Stars know we might need them, the way things are going." She gave Adom a meaningful look. "Be careful, you two."

The boys found a quiet spot on the cliffs overlooking the beach, where the camp sprawled below like a painting made of firelight and color. Up here, the wind bit harder, but at least they could talk without tiny eavesdroppers running circles around them.

Adom leaned against a boulder, watching the scene below. Bob had somehow ended up surrounded by a gang of children who'd decided his beard needed decorating. They were weaving ribbons and small bells into it while he grumbled and complained, though he made no real effort to stop them. His protests just made them giggle harder.

"If ye put one more ribbon in there, I swear by all that's- no, not the pink one- ah, bloody hell."

Near the massive bonfire, Valiant was now sharing drinks with one of the elder Veyshari, matching the old man cup for tiny cup. The mouse was still his usual self - cracking jokes, being generally annoying. But Adom had spent enough time with him in that dungeon to notice the cracks in the act.

Even in his sleep, Valiant would mutter his uncle's name, mixed with curses at Marco. Sometimes he'd wake up screaming - thank god for those concealment runes they'd used back then. The mouse beastkin handled his grief like he handled everything else - with humor and an extra dose of being insufferable. But he'd drunk himself into a stupor last night, and here he was again, tiny cup after tiny cup.

Adom's jaw tightened. He knew why, of course. The image of Marco standing over Valiant's uncle flashed through his mind, uninvited. Patience, he told himself. Marco would pay for everything he'd done. Adom would make sure of it.

His eyes swept the camp again, searching the crowds, the tents, the dancing figures by the fire, but-

"What are you looking for?" Sam's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Morgana," Adom replied absently, still scanning. "Haven't seen her since this morning. She's been... avoiding me, I think."

"Who's Morgana?"

Adom's eyes went wide. "Ah." He turned around slowly, meeting Sam's confused look with an apologetic smile. "Right. You don't know about... that."

Sam crossed his arms. "I really don't like that look on your face. That's your 'I did something complicated and probably stupid' look."

"I have a look for that?"

"You have several." Sam sat down on a nearby rock, pulling his coat tighter against the wind. "So. Morgana?"

"It's... complicated."

"Everything's complicated with you lately." Sam's voice wasn't accusatory, just tired. "But go on. What's one more complication?"

"Remember Kitty Cat?" Adom asked.

Sam's eyebrows drew together. "Of course I remember the cat. It used to sleep on your..." His eyes narrowed, then widened comically. "No."

"Yes."

"Human?"

"As far as I can tell."

"Woman?"

"Woman."

"Adult?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Curse."

Sam sat there for a moment, processing. Then his face went through several interesting expressions as certain memories apparently resurfaced. "We changed clothes with her in the room."

"Please don't remind me."

"She watched us get dressed."

"Sam."

"For weeks."

"I know."

"She slept on your bed!"

"To be fair, she was actually a cat then."

Sam buried his face in his hands then Sam started laughing. Not his usual polite chuckle, but a full, slightly hysterical laugh that echoed off the cliffs.

"You know what?" he wheezed, wiping his eyes. "I'm just going to stop being surprised. Every time you open your mouth lately, something impossible comes out. I'm just going to focus on whatever crisis we're dealing with right now and pretend everything else is normal."

He glanced toward the camp, then shuddered. "Though I really, really hope I don't run into her here. I might just stick my head in the freezing sand and wait for death."

A pause. "She's..."

"Yes, Sam." Adom knew exactly what his friend was trying not to ask. "She's beautiful."

Sam let out a long, deep sigh, muttering under his breath. "Of course she is. Of course our dorm cat turned into a beautiful woman. Why wouldn't she? That's just..." He waved his hands vaguely at the air. "That's just how things work in your life now, apparently."

"It's not like I planned it."

"You never plan anything. Things just... happen. Normal people's cats stay cats. Your cat turns into a beautiful woman. Normal people worry about exams. You're plotting against the Crown Prince. I don't even know why I'm surprised anymore."

He still did not know she was also the puma... maybe that was not necessary to tell him now.

"I thought you were suspending disbelief until the crisis passes?"

"Right. Right." Sam adjusted his glasses, then paused. "Speaking of which, you're not wearing yours anymore."

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"Don't need them."

"How-" Sam started, then caught himself. "No, wait. Let me guess. It has something to do with the dungeon?"

"So, remember the part where-"

"Actually," Sam cut in quickly, holding up both hands, "let's change the subject. I think I've hit my quota of impossible things for today."

Sam reached into his dimensional bag, pulling out the transportation crystal. It was still bigger than Adom remembered, about the size of a melon now, its faceted surface catching the last rays of sunlight.

"So what exactly do you want to do with this thing?"

"I'll work on it tonight." Adom's eyes tracked the light playing across the crystal's surface. "But for now, I need you to do something else. I need you to go talk to Headmaster Merris. He'll take it more seriously if it is a student."

"About?"

"Everything I just told you."

Sam frowned. "How do you know he'll help?"

"Just trust me on this one."

After working alongside the man in his past life, Adom knew Merris well enough. Behind that stern exterior was someone who'd go to war for his students if he had to. And right now, that's exactly what they needed.

"We should tell Hugo and Kaius too," Sam said suddenly.

Adom sighed. "Sam, the less people who know about this-"

"You don't understand." Sam's voice had an edge to it Adom had rarely heard. "While you were gone, we looked for you. Every night. For hours. In the snow, in the rain, breaking curfew to search the streets."

The crystal in Sam's hands caught another ray of light and sent rainbow patterns across his face as he continued.

"The club members split into groups. We put up missing person notices - you and Professor Kim, side by side. Got into fights in the Dregs when people tore them down. Kaius got a black eye defending your name when an imperial soldier suggested you'd just run away."

Adom's throat felt tight. "Sam-"

"But Hugo and Kaius? They went further. They started investigating, connecting dots. They're convinced something's happening in the Undertow - something big. And they..." Sam swallowed. "They're planning to go down there."

"What? When?"

"In two days. At night. They didn't tell anyone - I only know because I overheard them planning it." Sam's knuckles were now white around the crystal. "They're going to get themselves killed looking for you and the professor, Adom. After everything they've done, everything they're risking - they deserve to know the truth."

Adom paced along the cliff's edge, pieces clicking together. The timing... it could actually work. He'd planned to move in two days anyway, and Hugo and Kaius were far from helpless. He'd seen them fight during training.

His father's battalion of Star Knights was already in position, ready to move at a moment's notice. The Imperial forces had practically turned the city into a powder keg just by being there.

And now the Mage Council...

"The Archmage and his entourage are supposed to arrive tomorrow," he thought out loud. "Merris summoned them weeks ago about Professor Kim's case, and they have to respond, civil unrest or not. That means three major forces all converging on Arkhos at once."

"It's going to be chaos," Sam said. "The Imperial forces will be watching the Star Knights..."

"The Guards from Arkhos will be split between protecting the Mage Council and keeping an eye on both armies..."

"And everyone's waiting to see who makes the first move."

Adom grinned. "Exactly. They'll be so busy watching each other, no one will be watching the Undertow."

"You're going to use the chaos as cover," Sam realized.

"Tell Hugo and Kaius to meet me at the old lighthouse of Arkhos the day after tomorrow. While the powers above are playing their games, we'll hit the Undertow where it hurts."

"What exactly are you planning to do down there?" Sam asked.

"Marco, Gale, that one bastard who calls himself Mr. Fox - I'm going to drag them all into the light." Adom's voice hardened. "Everything they've been doing in the Undertow, all the proof of their operations - I'll make sure it ends up right in front of everyone's faces. No more shadows, no more secrets."

"While the whole city's distracted by armies and mages..."

"We'll rip the rot out by its roots."

Adom pushed himself up from the cold rock, joints cracking as he stretched his arms overhead. His boots crunched through fresh snow as he walked to the cliff's edge, the wind whipping his coat around his legs.

The sun was setting now.

He squinted against the glare, raising a hand to shield his eyes. The clouds were the same color as that day - when he'd lain there dying, on a beach much like this one. When that woman had offered him a second chance, when he'd reached out and grabbed her hand.

Adom breathed in deep through his nose, letting the cold air fill his lungs, then exhaled. Smoke curled from his mouth into the wind.

Two days. The Mage Council, Imperial forces, Star Knights, and somewhere in the Undertow, answers for Gale, Mr. Fox, Kim and Marco - everything lined up like dominoes waiting to fall.

"We're really doing this, aren't we?" Sam asked behind him.

Adom's lips curved into a smile. The same sun was setting over Arkhos, over the prince, over Marco, over everyone who thought their secrets were safe in the dark.

"Yep."

The promised day was coming.

*****

The same day, at night...

The Iron wolves war galley cut through the dark waters, its black sails barely visible against the night sky. In his cabin, Commander Arthur Sylla stood before the tactical map spread across his table, the lantern light casting long shadows across his face.

"Do you understand what I said, Noss?"

The massive man leaning against the cabin wall let out a rumbling laugh. Even hunched over to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling, Noss towered in the confined space. His beard, streaked with grey, did little to hide the scars that marked his face.

"Aah, don't worry, Commander. The little fire bird's in good hands."

Arthur's expression hardened. "This isn't a joke. My son specifically warned me about this man, Gale. He fights at Star Knight level and wields magic on top of that. He's not to be underestimated."

"Come now, Sylla. When have I ever let you down?"

"I'm serious, Noss." Arthur's hand clenched on the hilt of his sword. "You're one of my best. That's why I'm trusting you with this. We need Gale alive, preferably - he could be key in proving the Crown Prince's treachery."

Noss straightened up, his head brushing the ceiling. For a moment, the jovial mask slipped, revealing the veteran warrior beneath. "I understand, Commander. Capture, not kill. I'll drag that fucking Gale fella to you in chains if I have to."

"That was all I needed to hear, old friend."

"Though I have to say," his grin returned, "I'm looking forward to seeing little Adom again. Last time I saw that boy, he was barely up to my knee, trying to lift my war hammer."

"That was six years ago."

"Has it been that long?" Noss stroked his beard. "Well, must be quite the warrior now, coming up with a plan like this..." He chuckled. "Smart kid. Gets that from his mother, I'd wager."

Arthur's stern expression softened slightly. "Just keep him alive, you old bear."

"That's what you're really worried about, isn't it?" Noss's voice grew serious. "Not the mission, not the empire. You're worried about your boy."

Arthur turned to look out the cabin's window, where the lights of Arkhos glimmered in the distance.

"Well, I am his father," he said simply.

Noss chuckled. "Never thought I'd see the day. Remember when I met you? Barely out of your mother's milk, wild as a storm, picking fights with anyone who looked at you wrong. Didn't think you'd ever turn into the fretting father type."

"Have one yourself, you'll understand."

"Bah." Noss waved his massive hand. "I'm too old for that shit now. Besides, being an uncle's better - all the fun, none of the headaches."

Arthur's laugh was dry. "That's true enough. You'd have quite the headache indeed."

Three sharp knocks came at the door, followed by two slower ones. Arthur and Noss exchanged looks.

"Well, fuck me sideways," Noss growled, scratching his beard as his other hand drifted to his axe. "Little prince's got bigger balls than I thought, showing up here."

"Wouldn't it be funny," Noss continued, "if we cut 'em off and fed 'em to the seagulls? Bet they've never tasted royal meat before."

Arthur snorted. "Careful there. Our prince might actually enjoy that."

"What- oh." Noss's eyes widened before he let out a belly laugh. "Those stories from the pleasure district? The ones about him and the-"

"Every last one of them."

"Seven hells." Noss was still chuckling as another set of knocks rattled the door, harder this time. "Well then, shall we go see what his most perverted highness wants?"

The door creaked open to the smell of salt and tobacco. Men lounged across the deck, dice games scattered between coils of rope and weapon racks. The click of betting coins mixed with rough laughter and cruder jokes.

Now, one would expect the Iron Wolves, one of the most prestigious corps of the Sundarian Empire, to have knights that acted like, well... knights. But most of these men had manifested fluid before eighteen while picking pockets or running street games.

The Iron Wolves had always had an eye for talent in unusual places - young thieves, gamblers, brawlers. Kids who showed promise got dragged into brutal training instead of prison cells. The Empire got its Star Knights, and the streets lost their best prospects.

Taming them was another matter entirely. Even now, after all the training and discipline, they were allowed to keep their rough edges - and as tradition dictated, they chose their own commander, a knight from among them, who'd proven himself by defeating all three hundred and ninety-nine of his brothers in single combat.

"Commander on deck!" someone called out, more habit than ceremony.

A few men straightened up, but most just raised their cups in greeting. One spat a stream of tobacco juice over the side. "Going to meet the pretty prince, Commander?"

"Try not to let him seduce you," another called out, getting a round of laughter.

Arthur walked through them, boots heavy on the wooden planks. A grizzled sailor with an eye patch was already lowering a small rowing boat. "Weather's good for a midnight chat, Commander. Water's calm as a whore's bath."

"Speaking from experience, Rake?" someone shouted.

"More than you've had, you virgin bastard!"

Near the rope ladder, a weathered woman was checking her crossbow. "Want me to keep an eye on things from the crow's nest, Commander? My bolts fly straight in the dark."

"Save your arrows, Serra. The prince wants to talk."

"Talking's what got us into this mess," grumbled a man sharpening his sword. "Should've gutted the sneaky shit weeks ago."

"And started a civil war?" Arthur stopped beside him. "There's enough blood coming. No need to rush it."

The royal envoy stood stiffly by the boat, trying to ignore the hostile stares. His clean uniform and polished boots looked out of place among the scarred wood and salt-stained clothes.

"Commander," called out a voice from the stern. "Remember what the little shit did to your boy."

Arthur paused at the rope ladder. "I remember everything." He swung himself over the side, landing in the small boat with practiced ease. "That's why we're going to do this right."

The oars cut through black water, each stroke taking them closer to the shore where a single candle flickered. Even from here, Arthur could make out the figure seated at the table - dark hair, blue eyes, and the kind of face that belonged on coins and portraits. The kind of face that made you forget about the knife hidden behind the smile.

Kalyon Vi Savarnis. 4th of his name. Crown Prince of the great empire of Savarnis.

The boat's keel scraped sand. Above, on the war galley, his men watched in silence. No warnings needed, no worried glances. They knew their commander.

The candlelight caught the prince's smile as Arthur approached.

"Commander Sylla." He began. "Thank you for inviting me to talk. I must admit, I was... intrigued by your message."

Arthur took the seat across from him.

"Your Highness." He said. "Wine?"

"Already poured." The prince gestured to the two cups. "Though I insist you drink first. Custom, you understand."

Arthur took a slow sip, watching Kalyon over the rim of his cup. The prince's blue eyes missed nothing.

"Excellent vintage." The prince took his own sip. "From your personal stores, I assume? The Iron Wolves are known for their... particular tastes."

"We manage."

"Indeed you do." Kalyon set his cup down with grace. "Now then, shall we discuss why you've arranged this little chat? Something about avoiding unnecessary bloodshed, if I recall your message correctly."

"The Mage Council arrives tomorrow."

"Ah yes. About that unfortunate business with that professor. Kim, was it?" The prince's smile never wavered. Arthur looked at him, well aware of his very possible involvement in all this. "Tragic, really. But I fail to see how that concerns our current situation."

"Three armies in one city, Your Highness. Yours, mine, and the Council's forces. One spark, and Arkhos burns."

"Are you threatening me, Commander?"

"Warning you. The city's on edge. People are scared. Scared people do stupid things."

The prince leaned back. "And you propose?"

"A compromise. Two days. Keep your forces in their current positions for just two days. Let the Council investigate the professor's disappearance without interference. After that..." Arthur spread his hands. "Whatever happens, happens."

Kalyon's eyes narrowed slightly. "Two days of inaction, while my enemies gather strength? You must think me a fool, Commander."

"I think you're smart enough to see the bigger picture. Civil war helps no one. Not the Empire, not the Council..." Arthur paused. "Not even you."

"Careful, Commander." The smile remained, but something cold crept into the prince's voice. "One might mistake your concern for disloyalty."

"My loyalty is to the Empire. Always has been. And civil war will tear it apart."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by distant waves. The prince studied Arthur like a player studying a chess board, looking for the trap behind the move.

Finally, Kalyon reached for his wine again. "Two days. No movement from either side. The Council conducts their investigation unhindered." His lips curved. "A small price to pay for peace, wouldn't you say?"

"Then we have an agreement?"

"We do." The prince raised his cup. "To avoiding unnecessary bloodshed."

Arthur matched the gesture, knowing full well neither of them believed a word of it. But that didn't matter. All Adom needed was those two days, and the prince had just handed them over. Hopefully.

"Though I must ask," Kalyon added as Arthur stood to leave, "any news of your son? Such a tragedy, his disappearance. The investigation continues, of course."

Arthur's hand tightened on his sword hilt, but his voice remained steady. "Does it? Funny how you keep blocking my inquiries."

"Protocol, Commander. Can't have rogue elements disrupting official investigations, can we?" The prince's smile never reached his eyes. "Rest assured, if young Adom is found, you'll be the first to know."

If. The word hung in the air.

"So you'd risk civil war over protocols?" Arthur's voice was ice.

"Oh, Commander." Kalyon swirled his wine, watching the liquid catch the light. "Let's be honest about who brought us here. Had you simply trusted the Crown to investigate an incident that occurred on the grounds of Xerkes - the most prestigious mage school in the Empire, might I add, directly under imperial protection..." He sighed, all feigned regret. "But instead, you mobilized your forces. Made demands. Threatened imperial authority itself." His smile sharpened. "You turned a tragedy into a crisis, Commander. I merely responded accordingly."

Arthur said nothing, turning toward the boat. Behind him, the prince's soft laughter drifted on the night air like poison.

Two days. In two days, they'd all learn exactly where Adom had been - and more importantly, what he'd found. But for now, Arthur let the prince enjoy his imagined victory.

The promised day was coming.