Steel gleamed as the black armoured retainers drew, sending a bolt of pure heat through Kaius’s veins.

He glared, reaching for the hilt of his blade — though he didn’t draw. Arrogant fools wouldn’t intimidate him into breaking the peace, in front of the city guards no less.

Without turning, the noble slowly raised a black gloved hand.

“Stop,”

“Lord Kel!” The retainer who had snapped at Kaius early spoke through clenched teeth. He looked like the leader of the retainers — at least judging by the detail on his embroidered white cloak. “They bismirch your honour!”

Kaius met the retainer's eyes and grinned — they’d need to do more than draw steel to make him feel threatened. The retainer’s armour was pretty with its enamelled black — but they were matching. Commissioned pieces. Artisans who could make truly powerful equipment were rare, and he could only just barely feel the potency of second tier artefacts.

They were show ponies, nothing more.

Still, against all odds, this… Lord Kel seemed reasonable. Pretentious and arrogant, but not so insane as to start a fight. Kaius didn’t feel the need to…compare swords if his hand wasn’t forced.

The nobleman Kel didn’t so much as twitch at his retainer's words.

“I do not concern myself with the commentary of the lowborn, Galiead. They lack the wit to entertain, and the wisdom to grant insight — it is a waste of time. Now, please, stop debasing yourself by heckling the guildhounds, and let us be off. I do not wish to be late.”

Without another word, Kel cracked the reins of his mount and headed through the gate.

“Sir!”

The arrogance of the noble’s departure was so awe inspiring that Kaius could only watch in disbelief as the man’s retainers sheathed their weapons, before they pressed their fists against their chests in an unseen salute.

Giving Kaius a final departing sneer, they turned, following their master through the gate

The air remained tense with their departure, pale-faced guards watching Lord Kel’s entourage nervously, before looking at Kaius and his team with the same enthusiasm one might have when offered the chance to bed a live viper.

Ianmus sighed as soon as the noble was out of earshot.

“We haven’t even gotten into the Spire-damned city and we’re already offending the local nobility?” he hissed.

“My fault,” Kenva sighed, “I didn’t think they would hear.”

Ianmus made a strangled sound. “It’s a Lord’s personal guard! They’re minor nobility trained from childhood in the Dukedoms. At least one of them would have had Skills to spot assassins and ferret out conspiracies; you may as well have screamed it!”

“I know, I wasn’t thinking. Sorry,” Kenva said, grimacing.

Her apology took some of the wind out of Ianmus’s sails; he sighed. “I just hope this doesn’t blow up in our faces. The Anthraast library is neck deep in noble gold — our access could get tenuous very fast.”

Kaius clapped his friend on the back. “We’re not just going to let them bulldoze over us, Ianmus. We can’t, it’ll make them think that we stand at their pleasure. Besides, we have our own political backing. The Guild owes us, don’t forget that.”

“I know that,” Ianmus sighed. “I just spent many years avoiding their games as much as I physically could. I have seen how messy confrontation can get — but you’re right, there’s a balance to pay attention to with our current stature.”

The mention of the guild made the nearest guard go even paler. He didn’t blame the man for his nerves. He wouldn’t want to be caught between a political incident where both opposing parties dwarfed him in strength.

“N…next!” the man called, waving them forward.

…

Walking down the choked streets of Baanswell was easier than Kaius expected. Being large enough that traversing its length was difficult without a carriage, it had roads — and they had a damn good excuse to use them. Porkchop was large enough that he would have blocked most of the flow of foot traffic down the pavement, and with their stats they were more than fast enough to comfortably keep up with beasts and porters.

After entering the front gate, they’d quickly found a market stall aimed at selling conveniences to visitors and paid the frankly outrageous fee of fifteen gold depthscoin for a map. It was a cost that didn’t even scratch their dragon’s hoard, but Kaius still struggled to stomach it — even if it was made by a certified Cartographer, and perfectly to scale.

He did admit that it had proven its value. Reaching the guildhall would have been a struggle without it, they’d have had to stop for directions every five minutes.

“My uncle mentioned that Greenseed cities were, well, green — but I didn’t expect it to be this extreme,” Kenva said, staring at a wardlight pole that was almost invisible through the choking clutch of a vine that dropped with bell-shaped purple blooms.

The crisp scent of citrus they gave off was almost completely drowned in the haze of a dozen other nearby plants.

“You knew about the wall, but didn’t expect this?” Kaius questioned incredulously.

“It seems silly when you put it like that,” Kenva admitted. “But the wall is old magic, it’s meant to be fantastical and strange.”

She swept her hand out, gesturing at one of the trees that towered over the street, and the terrace with a fullblown raspberry bramble serving as a wall behind it. “These are just… plants. Somehow, the mundanity makes it stranger.”

Kaius could understand that; Baanswell had proven to be a garden city a dozen times over. Despite undoubtedly being a dense metropolis, with its thin winding streets and looming terraced buildings, there was almost as much life as in the depths of the Sea. Vines and creepers snaked across buildings and up pipes, and small square plots had been raised on every corner, filled with wild summer blooms.

Hells, the streets were lined with bloody elms of all things — shielding them from the heat with their wide, flat leaves.

He was having a fair bit of difficulty adjusting. In his head, he’d always seen cities as these drab, dull things of grey rock, wood, and smog — with maybe the odd flash of brightly coloured fabric to break up the monotony. He could see now that the assumption had been almost entirely formed from his experiences in Deadacre, the only other city he’d visited, and Baanswell’s utter antithesis. Of course Deadacre was bloody dead and grey — it had an experimental imperial mana reactor lurking beneath the city that killed off all plantlife within a league!

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Are all greenseed cities like this?” Porkchop asked, his nose twitching as a gust of wind sent a cloud of petals through their path.

“Yes, but also no,” Ianmus replied. “Like most things in the Dukedoms, it started as a pissing contest a few hundred years ago. Essentially, which of them was wealthy enough to burn mountains of gold on turning their ducal seat the most green. Baanswell won almost immediately, because it turns out the wyrdwall makes plants grow like mad. However, it was popular with the people, and the naturalist revival movement was born.”

That was exactly in line with what Kaius expected. Nobles were odd — even the good ones seemed to only strike gold by pure happenstance, as a side effect of throwing their weight around.

Although, technically he was a noble. He frowned; ‘Lord Kel’ was still a pompous ass.

“Kaius,” Kenva said suddenly, a frown on her face.

“Hmm?”

“We’re being followed.”

Her warning snapped him into focus, his lingering wonder at their surroundings evaporating.

“Where?” he asked.

“A few hundred strides back. They’re being cautious — even ditched their armour and threw on some ratty cloaks, but I'd recognise those features anywhere. It’s Kel’s men.”

Kaius sighed — they just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, could they?

“Let’s take this corner, see if they keep pace.”

As they rounded the bend, he watched the way they had come out the corner of his eye.

Sergeant’s Insight nudged him. Six men, all wearing the same worn off-grey wool cloaks were spread through the crowds.

Wool. In summer. That was sloppy.

“We could try to lose them in the back streets?” Porkchop suggested.

Kaius shook his head. No way that would work. The retainers on their tail might have been poor at hiding their tracks, but they would know the city far better than they did. No way they were losing them.

“Then why not just wait for them? They didn’t even feel like peak Silvers — we’d fold them in half.”

“Can’t fight them in the street,” Kaius said, shaking his head. “Open conflict would force the hand of whatever house Kel is part of. We’d be openly testing them, they’d have to retaliate, even if just to save face.”

“Kaius is right,” Ianmus said, a deep frown on his face. “I know the ilk of men like this. I brushed shoulders with them frequently in Mystral. However, we do need some show of strength. If we come across as weak, they’ll smell blood in the water, and they’ll try to grind us under their boots. Convince them that simple retainers are beneath us, and we have a shot at ending this here — without it escalating into an outright feud.

“An alley?” Porkchop suggested, anticipation building within him.

Kaius thought about it for a minute. “Could work. We’d need the right one. Something where we can be reasonably sure of avoiding onlookers.”

“What about that one?” Kenva asked, pointing to a small gap between two terraces further down the street. One of the elms was positioned directly in front of it, and a flowering vine had managed to bridge the gap between buildings, creating a natural curtain.

“I hope you have a plan?” Ianmus asked.

“The skeleton of one,” Kaius replied, grinning.

Ianmus groaned. “Fine, but for the record, we should try to bite our tongues before we get into a situation like this next time.”

Kaius just laughed, a slight pulse of heat building within him.

Cutting towards the alley, they slowed their pace, making sure that their tail had enough time to spot them. They dipped inside, pushing through vines to enter the crevasse between buildings. Refuse littered it, a more familiar sign of urbanity than the polished green Kaius had seen elsewhere.

He waved at his team to move further down, “Let me talk — they’ll think we’re trying to ambush them if we’re all bunched up.”

Despite giving him uncertain looks, his team listened. Leaning on the wall of the alley, Kaius didn’t have to wait long. A mob of stocky men appeared at the mouth, half obscured by drooping vines. He could see the blades belted at their hips, but it looked like they’d ditched their armour.

“You!” the man in the lead said — Galiead, if he remembered right.

“Me,” Kaius said, straightening.

The retainer ground his teeth, reaching for his sword. “I should gut you where you stand!”

“Coward,” he replied, crossing his arms.

“I… What?” Galiead replied, stopping short.

“Six men with blades, against one with fists? That’s a coward’s fight. Are you a coward, Galiead?”

“You dare!”

Kaius sighed, waving off Porkchop when a low growl rumbled through the alley.

“This again?” he replied, shaking his head. “Ignore the canvas, ignore the trail dust — who would dare?”

The retainer paused, his snarl snapping shut into a thin line. Kaius bared his teeth, feeling the rhythmic pound of the song in his ears.

“I havent even drawn my fucking sword! Think, Galiead! Think! Who scoffs in a lord’s face? Who notices they are being followed by six Silver retainers and leads them into a dark alley? I dare because I can!” Kaius hissed, taking a single, stalking step forwards.

The retainers bristled, reaching for their blades — he ignored them. Worst came to worst, he had his Nails and a storage ring. It would be over before they even figured out he didn’t need to channel.

Galiead’s jaw clenched, a vein on his neck pulsing. “By the honour of house Frostbloom, I will make you eat those words.”

Kaius grinned — perfect.

“We do this here, with fists,” he said, reaching down to unbuckle his sword belt. “You want satisfaction? So do I. When I win, you apologise and this ends here. No knives in the dark, no whispered words to your lord — on your honour.”

The retainer looked like he wanted to gut him alive.

“You think our apologies are equal?” Galiead hissed.

He had the bastard. Kaius passed off his sword to Ianmus.

“I would expect a man like you to know better than to make assumptions. Since you have the gall, let me sweeten the pot,” Kaius said. He summoned a bulging coin pouch full of platinum, tossing it onto the grimy floor of the alley. “A public apology to Lord Frostbloom, at a place of his choosing, and a pledge of two hundred platinum to a cause of his choice.”

Kaius paused, letting Galiead linger on the glint of silvery-white visible through the pouches drawstring before he looked back up.

It was a substantial sum to almost anyone — except those of true influence. It was a statement, one he knew Galiead would take as a measure of how important he and his team saw this matter. How important he should see this matter.

“No Skills?”

Kaius shook his head, “Just fists, ‘til you yield or stop fighting back. One of your men can sound the count.”

Galiead scowled, before he turned and passed off his sword to the men behind him. “Block off the alley while I deal with the guildhound. This ends now.”

His men nodded, pushing through the vines to bar the way.

Kaius felt the fire stoke within him as Galiead met his eyes once more. He was going to enjoy this.