V2Ch54-Benefactor
Dero allowed her Anti-Light Screen to drop with an expression of disbelief on her face.
The fuck is going on with that girl?
The arrow that had embedded itself above Dero’s head still quivered with the force it had struck with. That was why Dero hadn’t tried to creep away or even teleport somewhere else on the scene. It would be a way of signaling that her presence was a threat and instantly initiating a fight with the catgirl… and that was something the dark elf didn’t want to do.
A single hit from either woman could be fatal, and even if Dero could guarantee that she was the one to land that hit - which she could - she still had no good reason to start a fight to the death over her own desire to spy on the one she had heard the beastfolk calling “Lord Necromancer.”
She was just trying to surreptitiously gain information, more for her own curiosity than anything else. And now someone was shooting what felt like ballista bolts in her general direction.
It was interesting how the catgirl conjured another giant arrow almost as soon as the first one was fired. Mainly interesting because her aura fluctuated unsteadily when she created the new arrow.
Was that a bad habit? Or something worse, like an aura control issue or a health problem? Dero didn’t know enough about Kistana to be certain.
As the catgirl crossed the distance to the dark elf, the beastfolk and humans watched in surprise. But the two women only had eyes for each other. The most notice Kistana paid to the others was to wave off their attention as if to say, Everything is fine!
Once the catgirl was within hearing range, Dero called out, “What the fuck was that for? I’m not hurting anyone, just… watching!”
“And I didn’t aim at you!” Kistana called back. “I just fired a warning shot. It didn’t hurt a hair on your head. But if you mean no harm, then why try to hide?”
“Yeah, because the welcome is so good when you actually know I’m here!”
“You held a blade to my lord’s throat just last night, you madwoman! I could have welcomed you with an arrow through the chest, and it would not have been an overreaction.”
That… is not an invalid point.
“I could have killed you just now over the arrow, you know,” Dero said. “Even if we say I do understand why you did it, that was fucking stupid.”
“Yes, you could have,” Kistana replied. “And revealed your presence. Any surprise attack aimed at Lord Tybalt and the others would have been foiled.”
“I admire your dedication. You would lay down your life for him without hesitation.”
The dark elf wasn’t being insincere here. This was key to being a truly great bodyguard, and it was why Dero generally no longer took on personal bodyguard duties, only mercenary work like guarding caravans or helping in the defense of cities. People expected to buy that loyalty to them for mere money, like you were their vassal raised from a young age to kiss their feet. Real life had beaten that nonsense out of Dero, if it had ever been in her.
The catgirl simply nodded in response to Dero’s words. They were close enough to see each other’s faces very clearly now. The dark elf decided to add a little teasing edge to her next words.
“You must be very attached to him.”
She was only messing with Kistana, who seemed to be a very serious person. But the catgirl visibly stiffened. Just slightly, but it was definitely there. Like the words made her a little uncomfortable or were close to the truth.
Gods, is she thirsting for him too? What, does this man have hypnotic powers as well as necromancy, disease, and beast taming? A magic dick? Is his seed fruit-flavored? What is there that’s so special about the great ‘Lord’ Tybalt?
“He is the benefactor of all four tribes,” Kistana said in a slow, dignified tone. “He’s saved many people’s lives. He is the High Priest of our god… and our best hope for survival into the future. Any one of us would willingly risk our lives to safeguard his. And I work directly for him. I have sworn to protect his life with my own.”
Dero ignored the layers of denial for the moment and grasped the one key piece of information she hadn’t been aware of.
“Wait, did you say he’s your High Priest? Don’t you guys worship Death God Mudo?”
The catgirl seemed to have recognized she might have made some mistake, but she had no choice but to tell the truth now.
“We do.”
“That explains… so damn much!”
He’s a necromancer and the High Priest of Mudo. End times shit is happening.
“What?”
“Well, congratulations. I have no further desire to harm your lord. You can keep watching me all you like… but for the record, we worship the same god.”
The silence between the two women for the next few seconds said everything. Both knew that no sane person would lie so casually about which god they followed, for fear of divine punishment. Either the god you served would be angry at you for identifying some other deity as your patron, or the other god would be wroth that you had invoked his name to make yourself look better. Certainly, Dero would lie about such a thing herself… but only if someone had her dead to rights, which Kistana did not.
“Very well. I’ll keep an eye on you, but I suppose I should trust you if you follow Lord Mudo… Give us this day, O Lord…”
The catgirl looked Dero in the eyes, testing her.
The dark elf smirked, almost laughed, but then she finished the prayer.
“For we know that tomorrow is yours,” the elf finished.
Really? You’re testing me with the most basic prayer? Even a pretender would know that one. Ask me something hard… If she and I ever get to know each other, I’ll teach her to be a little less naive.
The catgirl nodded and walked away, leaving Dero with her thoughts.
So, I think I know what Tybalt actually wants now. Probably. There had been legends even when she was young about Lord Mudo eventually seeking revenge on the God of War and Goddess of Love. Prophecies she was fed that she had long since stopped thinking about. But the Death God hadn’t, of course. The gods were endlessly patient. And the keystone for Lord Mudo’s plans would have to be a mortal agent. Yep, end of days shit is coming. A great tide of flesh, bone, and spirit that will wash over the land and make things “right” again.
She frowned. She wasn’t certain how to think about any of this, whether to get as far away as she could or involve herself as deeply as possible. She was immediately tempted to stick around, of course.
As much as she had hated the idea of getting involved with Tybalt’s war when she thought he was just bringing destruction on the beastfolk and the Kingdom, it was a different story if the Death God was involved.
According to Lord Mudo’s own lore, at least, this was a fight he was supposed to win. That would mean a lot for those on the winning side, which might be worth being in the middle of all the bloodshed.
I can only learn what Tybalt truly intends from the horse’s mouth. But if this is the war to end the tyranny of those two gods, I can’t say I’m opposed. If anything, isn’t it a chance to wield some influence myself? When the rules get rewritten, shouldn’t a dark elf be on that winning side? Gods know there are few enough of us left…
She shifted to a more comfortable position on the bit of rock she had been resting on, brushed a little dirt off her skirt, and settled in to watch for a while.
Even from far off, she heard scraps of whispers between Tybalt and his lover, carried by the wind.
“Is she- ”
“Yeah- ”
“Why- ”
“Don’t- ”
Just enough scraps to be utterly useless.
Dero could hear the beastfolk much better, but they were just focused on enacting the lessons Tybalt had imparted on them, while the necromancer and his lover’s eyes kept flicking to Dero, making it obvious that they were talking about her.
The dark elf finally decided to join them. She walked down, avoiding teleportation so as not to alarm a certain catgirl. The conversation died off as she got close.
Come on, guys, can’t fake that you weren’t talking about me?
“Dero, this is my fiancee, Mariella,” Tybalt said. “Mariella, this is Dero.”
“It’s a pleasure,” Dero said. She took Mariella’s hand in hers, squeezed it, and gave her a deliberately intense look until the other woman, slightly uncomfortable, turned her head to look back at Tybalt - who just seemed amused.
You two might be fun.
“What brings you to our mana training session, Dero?” Mariella asked after a moment.
Dero turned to Tybalt in response. “You wanted me to stick around, right? Well, I’m figuring out if I want to stay. Unless your… interest… evaporated?”
Mariella definitely had some questions in her eyes as she looked back at Tybalt again - like what kind of interest Tybalt had expressed - but he just looked at Dero, raised an eyebrow, and seemed to be trying to read her, ignoring Mariella’s reaction for the moment. After a few seconds, he shook his head and smiled.
“No, still interested in keeping you here.”
“Good, because you got a lot more interesting to me today,” Dero replied.
She could almost see him resisting the urge to ask what had changed. But he didn’t.
A man who’s simultaneously curious but also comfortable with not knowing everything. That’s a rare enough combination. She returned his smile. It couldn’t hurt to be a little friendlier.
“You two continue doing whatever you want to do next,” the dark elf added. “I’ll just watch quietly for now.”
The necromancer and his lady both looked conscious of their observer as they resumed lessons for the beastfolk, but they also seemed to focus back on the task at hand quickly.
If I do stay, I might take over this mana training thing myself, Dero thought as she assessed the knowledge the humans were demonstrating. If a great war is coming, this stuff will help, but the basics might not be enough to keep these people alive. And I need the people who stand between me and enemy arrows to live a long time.
Another hour passed. A few of the beastfolk managed to perform basic mana circulations, but most of them were utterly hopeless. Dero found herself bored out of her mind. She decided that the next time the beastfolk trained with mana, she would take over, but she would make it a more active drill. Maybe running through a simple obstacle course that required mana use to complete. Maybe dodging void daggers.
Some of you may die, but that is a risk I’m prepared to take. The weak individual dies, and the tribe survives. Something like that. I’ll work on my motivational speech.
Tybalt excused himself from the others to let them perform more exercises under Mariella’s supervision and went back over to Dero.
“Were you serious about staying?” he asked.
“I’m seriously considering it,” she replied evenly. “But I do have questions.”
“What’s gotten you to this point?”
“I found out who you are.”
He raised an eyebrow but gave her no other hint of surprise.
He probably thought I figured it out sooner, because I guess every beastfolk knows he’s a fucking High Priest. Whatever. I was deliberately avoiding asking anyone.
“You want to build an army to attack the Kingdom,” Dero continued. “Not just to defend the beastfolk.”
Tybalt nodded. “That’s right. It’s what they need, too. They just don’t know it yet.”
Sure. Well, far be it from me to tell their savior how best to protect his people. It’s not as if I care. Whether he defends them or not isn’t even the important question. It’s the other thing.
“What comes next?” she asked.
“Then we build a new Kingdom. Hopefully a better one. We expand it if we can. We do our god’s will, as best we can. He wants to overthrow the established order. We can do that. Then we impose our own.”
So, he is working for the Death God. But he wants to create something new, not just create chaos and bring on the end of the world or something equally disastrous. That’s a relief. I probably don’t need to just stick a dagger in his heart and get out of here. And it’s telling that he uses the word “we” instead of “I,” “me,” “mine.” Maybe a good sign that he’s open to advice. Most would-be emperors are narcissists. He might possibly be slightly less of one. This could be interesting.
“Then consider me very interested in staying,” Dero said.
I’m at least invested in knowing what happens next in this story.
“Why? Don’t tell me you suddenly care deeply about the fate of the beastfolk.”
“Empire-building is always interesting. It looks like a lot of fun, from what I’ve seen, up until everything comes crashing down in a hundred years or so. I’ve never been this close up to the center of power before. Who knows, it might be a good time. It’s just the blink of an eye with my lifespan.”
Fuck, maybe we actually make a better world. I can lie to myself that it’s possible for a little while. Maybe changing the world is a fake it ‘til you make it kind of thing. Maybe the people who believe, despite all the evidence, that it can be a decent place, are the ones who are right. We just have to fight hard for it. Maybe.
Tybalt looked like he was somewhere between pleased with her decision and trying not to laugh. Ultimately, he just extended his hand to her.
“A pleasure to have you aboard, then, Dero.”
“For now,” the dark elf replied.
But she took his hand in hers and firmly shook it.
Now, a recommendation (basically a shout swap):
Immortality sounds glorious.
Until you are the one still standing at the family altar, watching everyone you loved turn into names on wood.
RCW: Real Cultivation World is cultivation with receipts. Pills spoil. Talismans smudge. The clan counts spirit stones before it counts favors, and progress is measured in years, not chapters.
Elian has a cheat, but it is not a golden ticket. It is a small edge in a world that still wants him dead, indebted, or broken.
If you want a cultivation story where power has weight, time has teeth, and “family” means shelter and competition in the same breath:
Read RCW: Real Cultivation World on NovelFire: https://www.NovelFire.com/series/2172950/rcw-real-cultivation-world/