Chapter 68: Enemy

With his new Clown Guard, Skeleton Archers, and Skeleton Infantry safely in his core, Charon returned to his room.

He was still sitting cross-legged on his bed, a position he planned to stay in, before he heard a knock at his door.

Frowning, he stood.

’Who could be coming to visit?’

He instantly considered the chances that the High Elders had learned of his Stadia fights and had sent someone to collect him to lecture him on why that wasn’t allowed.

Or they could get rid of him outright, unwilling to risk a repeat offender.

Sparing a moment to grab his black dagger and tuck it away in his sleeve, he approached and grabbed the handle, pulling the door open with a quick tug.

A tall blonde man was standing on the other side, wearing a freshly pressed black robe.

Gone were the golden embellishments, instead being replaced with a few silver threads at the cuffs and around the neck, providing just enough to show he wanted to come across as classy without overdoing it.

Two sheaths hung at his waist, each holding a shortsword.

The moment he caught sight of Charon, he smiled, the action slightly annoying as it reminded the teenager of how much better looking Emerius was.

’It’s just not fair! Why did the gods have to bless him with the looks and not me? A girl like Annie will always pick him!’

Suppressing his frustration, Charon offered a smile of his own before stepping to the side and letting Emerius enter.

"Come on in."

Taking the offer, his friend walked past him and studied the room, his expression giving nothing away until his gaze locked onto the Mask of the Jester resting on the table.

’Shit! I forgot I had left that out!’

Stepping up to it, Emerius reached down to grab it before pausing, turning his head to Charon and speaking.

"May I..?"

Unsure if refusing him could make it more suspicious, he nodded his consent and joined him around the table. The moment the swordsman touched the relic, Charon gulped.

’I hope he can’t learn anything about my time at the Stadia from it. The announcer did say I’d be the talk of the town; if Emerius was out and heard about it, he might connect the dots.’

Luckily, that didn’t seem to immediately be the case, his friend giving the item an approving, if a bit jealous, look.

"This is a soul-bound relic. These are very rare, especially for a Novice to come across. Where did you acquire it?"

Charon shrugged as if to make it seem less than it was.

"I found it in a local shop. The guy gave it to me at a good price, so I took him up on it. I didn’t even know it was a relic until after finding it."

Emerius raised an eyebrow.

"You had money to buy it with? Even at a good price, something like this would go for a lot."

Charon scoffed.

"We are lieutenants now, and I’m a man of means. I grew up as an orphan, remember? We are known for our ingenuity."

His friend’s eyebrow somehow raised higher.

"Are they, now?"

Turning back to the mask, Emerius studied it even closer, flipping it over and peering at the face. It was set into a deep frown, the eyes downturned.

’Psh, even the mask doesn’t like him getting involved! I should’ve hidden it somewhere else and avoided this altogether!’

Emerius’s breath caught as he noticed something, his eyes narrowing.

"Is that..? No, that can not be..."

He froze, his head swiveling to stare at Charon.

"Charon, are you aware of the enchantments and effects this relic possesses?"

Nodding in confusion, Charon responded, his tone defensive.

"Of course, my holo-pad scanned it. Is there something wrong? Did I get scammed?"

The swordsman chuckled once, the sound almost coming across as a cough.

"Nothing wrong, quite the opposite. The mana I detect on this relic comes from two different elements, mind and... something I do not know. I am well-versed in all ten elements, so this must be a very rare subelement."

He paused and pursed his lips.

"What surprises me most is the mind enchantment. It is not what I would normally expect of a mask such as this, subtle charisma improvements, for example, but instead it is a very potent source of anti-magic."

Emerius lowered the mask to the table and tapped it with his index finger.

"I doubt there lives a mind mage who could breach the defenses. If the Church of the Mind learned of its existence, they would stop at nothing to obtain it."

His face split into a wicked grin, the first time Charon had seen such an expression on the man.

"This is exactly the kind of relic that we need more of. If we can find another for myself, we could be impervious to one of the most sadistic and effective forms of control out there. My father would pay a fortune for it!"

Charon’s excitement, which had been steadily growing with his friend’s approval, vanished instantly.

"What do you mean your father would pay a fortune for it?"

His words were friendly, but there was an undertone of accusation to them that caught Emerius off guard.

"Well, it is a very rare and powerful relic. My father, being one of the generals of the military, would love such an item to protect himself or his guards."

Charon slowly approached and took the mask, his gaze never leaving Emerius, even when his friend began to look hurt.

"You... think I would take it?"

Charon glanced at the mask before responding. His mind was in turmoil as he considered the harsh realities he had faced recently. War and killing were rapidly becoming normal, and he still wasn’t beyond their last argument about his emotional reaction to it all.

"I don’t know. You value your family a lot, something I’m sure makes sense to you, but I’m not part of that family. How do I know you won’t harm me to help them?"

The words caught in Emerius’ throat, his eyes widening.

"You really think that?"

Charon gave a single nod before looking down to think of the words to explain himself while not coming across as too offensive.

Before he could find them, he felt a heavy fist connect with his stomach, and his body flipped across the room until he landed on his bed’s mattress. The air left his lungs as he slammed down face-first, the soft bedding feeling harder on impact.

’What the-’

Before he could finish the thought, he felt a very powerful set of hands grab his shoulders from behind him and hoist him into the air. He was then flying again, his back slamming into the wooden floor.

He felt the mask be ripped from his hands and tossed to the side, followed by the ring of two blades being drawn. Looking up, he saw Emerius raising them up as if preparing to strike.

"Wait, stop! I didn’t-"

They came down, skewering the wood on both sides of his head, missing his ears by centimeters.

With confident movements, Emerius lowered himself and kneeled on Charon’s chest, pinning him to the ground and making every breath agony. Gritting his teeth, he brought his mouth up to his face and spoke.

"If I wanted to steal anything from you, I would just do it. You are not the most dangerous man I have met, not even close. I have witnessed things beyond your comprehension."

He grabbed the front of Charon’s shirt and yanked him up.

"I am not your enemy. I am not here to abuse you. I was telling you my father would fairly compensate you for the relic should you wish him to. In no way did I imply I would stoop so low to steal the item."

Standing up, the blonde swordsman wrenched his swords free of the floorboards and sheathed them, the practiced action somehow looking threatening, as if they could be redrawn at a moment’s notice.

"I am going to assume that your words were meant as a joke. I am going to leave now. If you wish, find me tomorrow, and we will forget this ever happened."

He spared one last glance down at Charon before finding the thrown mask and bringing it back to him, unceremoniously dropping it on his aching torso.

"Here is your mask. It was a good find. I pray to the gods that you find more in the future, so that you will be successful. Perhaps one day you will find it in yourself to wish the same of me."

With those words, he left the apartment, slamming the door behind him, causing the room to shake.

Charon sat there for a minute, stupefied, too shocked to have any emotional reaction just yet.

’What... just happened...’

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