The man Anshu had guarding their door knocked, and Anshu went to open the door, Leon and the rest of his retinue continuing to stand in a semi-circle around the opening. When Anshu opened the door, the man in charge of the smuggling outpost stood there, flanked by half a dozen of his goons. Only the outpost commander was seventh-tier; the rest were sixth-tier.
The commander was a fairly large man, standing about six and a half feet tall and quite well-built. He wasn’t overly handsome, but neither was he particularly unattractive, by conventional standards—his skin tone was somewhat tanned, enough so that he could just be tan or a little darker-skinned than Leon, but his features were otherwise so plain that Leon couldn’t even fathom a guess as to where he hailed from. However, he smiled with the arrogance of a man fully in charge of the situation, despite the fact that Leon and all of his people were either of equal tier or stronger than him.
“Anshu,” he said in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. Continuing, he spoke with all the arrogance that his demeanor held, his words coming in through a thick accent that Leon couldn’t place, only serving to further enshroud his place of origin, “May I come in?”
Without waiting for a response, he made to enter the room, but Anshu, being eighth-tier, easily blocked him from doing so, to his clear surprise. It wasn’t until Anshu glanced back at Leon, Leon nodding in response, that he moved aside and allowed the man inside. The other six, however, Anshu again blocked.
“My men mean no harm,” the commander drawled, his confident demeanor cracking with anger. “They but wish to keep me safe. They can follow, yes?”
Leon, still unarmored, smiled at him, letting the question hang for a moment before saying, “They can come in, Anshu.”
Anshu grunted and then moved, but stayed within arm’s reach of the door as the commander’s six escorts entered the room. They took up flanking positions around the commander, looking decidedly not as arrogant as he did, their eyes flickering to and from Leon and his retainers with varying levels of fear.
“I would offer thanks,” the commander said as he availed himself of the nearest seat, “but this outpost is mine. We have this place, it is owned!”
Leon, ignoring his tone, growled, “Who are you?”
He received the desired outcome, as the commander snarled and said through clenched teeth, “I will now introduce myself: I am Remi. None more is needed, save that this is my outpost.”
Leon cocked an eyebrow and barely lowered his head in acknowledgment. “I’m Leon,” he replied.
“Know this, I do,” ‘Remi’ replied. “It is why I am here, now. To find out what a Chief of Heaven’s Eye is doing skulking about in my outpost.”
Leon’s expression hardened, though he gave the smuggler-commander a half smile. “Not your business,” he replied, offering no more explanation. He could feel his people getting a little restless, but he wasn’t going to cooperate with this man when he had the tavern surrounded by more than a hundred armed men and women.
“When it involves my outpost, my business it is!” the man insisted, his anger flaring for a moment before he clamped down on it and leaned back on his sofa, his arrogant smirk returning. “There have been stories flying about, numbering great, of recent happens in this swamp. Sky Devils, yet no attacks after. Why did they come, I ask myself. And now here is a Heaven’s Eye Chief! Enough to make a man wonder more…”
Leon glanced briefly at Anshu, who frowned back. Leon knew that the operation to safely bring the Jaguar to shore and further inland required more than just Anshu’s small crew, but as far as he knew, those who’d participated had been independent, not affiliated with the Saltwater Road. If one of them had talked about that operation to anyone, that would be a problem, but as far as Leon knew, none of them had known exactly whom they’d picked up.
‘One of them could’ve put two and two together and loosened their lips,’ Leon thought. ‘If that was the case, then did they connect the Sky Devils to Anshu, and then to me? Did they even know about me until I showed up here with Anshu?’
He sighed. Using outside smugglers had been a necessity, by Anshu’s admission, but Leon could still regret doing so, especially since it was now giving him trouble. Regardless, he said to Remi, “What a man wonders doesn’t concern me. I’ll be plain here: I have no desire to speak with you. I ask you to leave.”
“But I have desire to speak with you, Leon,” Remi said. “Proposals I have for you; I will not outline them—”
“You will do no such thing,” Leon interrupted. “We are not going to be working together. Extinguish whatever delusions you have.”
“Such is shame,” Remi said sarcastically. “Much riches can be gained with joined hands, ours. If it is insisted that no hands are joined, then other means are used to claim riches. A Chief of Heaven’s Eye appearing in our outpost is rare, and of interest to many…”
“Why Remi, are you blackmailing me?” Leon asked, his smile growing wider as he tightened his control over his power. It was taking a nonzero amount of concentration to keep his killing intent from spilling out and flooding the room. Remi’s guards weren’t quite so disciplined, the room already growing thick with their auras and modest killing intent, but Leon was gratified to see that none of his people were losing control, not even Red despite the fire in her eyes.
“But seeking riches am I, and friends,” Remi replied. “A Chief of Heaven’s Eye would make powerful friend, yes? And friends are cherished by me; none would learn of any Chief’s visit to my outpost were he my friend. None would learn of my friend’s friends, either, should they come through my outpost, either.”
“We’re not friends,” Leon bluntly stated. “It sounds like you’re blackmailing me. This will be your final warning not to try. I don’t take kindly to threats, veiled or otherwise.”
Remi smirked and seemed to drop his façade. Wind began gathering about him as his aura began to spike in intensity. “Would be better if we’re friends. But since we aren’t, then allow me to speak of plain. Many have seen you here. You are now known here. Word has spread about my network, and will get out if we do not—”
Before Remi had a chance to finish, Leon, in a flash of lightning sprang to his feet and crossed the few feet between himself and the outpost commander, the thunder that followed in his wake so strong that it shook the entire outpost.
Not that Remi noticed, for Leon had drawn his family’s blade and sank it into Remi’s chest, impaling his heart and killing the unarmored and otherwise unshielded seventh-tier mage instantly.
“Well, my decision had been made already, but this just confirms it,” Leon said as Remi’s guards flinched, the reality of what Leon had just done taking a moment to sink in. Leon took that moment to glance around at his people. “Kill everyone with a weapon. We’re destroying this outpost.”
His retainers, prepared as they were, didn’t miss a beat. Red was the first to move, turning as soon as Leon said ‘kill’. She took a few threatening steps forward, seeming to relish the growing fear of Remi’s guards. As Leon finished speaking, she lunged forward, fire erupting from her hands and consuming the guards, and in barely a second, all six had been rendered into piles of ash.
Leon felt the enchantments keeping the tavern intact flexing and straining under the weight of Red’s magic. Had Valeria not reinforced them, he guessed that the entire building would’ve gone up in smoke from that strike.
At the same time, Alix and Marcus leaned out of the windows, their thunder bows in hand. Neither bow had an arrow nocked, but as they brought their fingers to the string and pulled them back, a lightning bolt gathered where an arrow would’ve been, the enchantments Leon had lain upon the bows working with the thunder wood’s apparently endless ability to generate lightning magic.
Each of them held their arrows there for a moment, only loosing once the lightning stopped growing. Again, the tavern was shaken by thunder, but this time, the targets were outside; each lightning arrow exploded amid the mages Remi had gathered outside to try and intimidate them, killing a handful each.
And neither Alix nor Marcus had to expend much more than a spark of magic power to do so. They were seventh-tier mages, so their magic was powerful, but the thunder bows were powerful weapons that allowed them to conserve their magic power.
The mages outside began scrambling for cover while those who survived the attack with injuries began screaming in pain. Some of the mages just began screaming despite not being touched by the lightning, and Leon was more than a little amused to see about a dozen simply drop their weapons on the ground and run as fast as they could either for the office building or the tree line.
“Catch those trying to run!” Leon shouted. His retainers sprang into action. Gaius and Valeria sprinted out of the door, Anshu’s last remaining guard looking almost shell-shocked. Alcander and Anzu took more direct routes outside, hurling themselves out of the windows as Alix and Marcus pulled back to prepare another salvo.
Alcander hit the ground like a meteor, fire erupting from his body and washing toward a group of mages like an ocean wave. Anzu touched the dirt only a moment later, wind spiraling about him like a tornado. This twister expanded rapidly, and gusts were thrown toward a dozen smugglers that ripped the skin right off their bodies.
In that landing, Leon estimated another twenty mages died.
Red was a bit more leisurely as she exited the tavern, walking after Gaius and Valeria, but it didn’t take her long to get outside, and as soon as she did, her body practically exploded into her wyvern form.
She was a little bit bigger than she’d been when Leon had met her, her new power having increased her body’s size as well. Her ability to fly remained unimpacted, however, and she took off with agility and grace. And it was with agility and grace that she began strafing the outskirts of the outpost, ensuring that those who’d attempted to run were forced back. It wasn’t quite what Leon had in mind, but he supposed that it did the job well enough. It was just unfortunate that the stronger of the mages that attempted to flee were those who were caught up in Red’s attacks, disintegrating when her fires rolled over them. The weaker of those attempting to flee were the ones who were forced back to the outpost.
Maia and Anshu were the only ones who didn’t do anything. Maia, Leon could understand; from their connection, he knew that she felt nothing but dismissive contempt for the smugglers and that killing them she felt was beneath her. Anshu, however, Leon gave a questioning look.
Anshu shrugged. “I’ve worked with these people for years, now. Most of them deserve death, I’ll agree with you there, but I’d rather not be the one to kill them. We had a good working relationship until now.”
Leon hummed in acknowledgment, deciding not to force the man to move against the outpost. Instead, he turned his head to watch his people carry out his orders to slaughter all those with weapons in the outpost.
---
In all, seventy-three smugglers died in the outpost. An additional forty-eight either surrendered or were taken prisoner.
Leon had no idea what he was going to do with these people, though. For the time being, he had them all restrained and left in the tavern, which was fortunately still intact despite the damage the building had taken in the fighting. He then had Anshu and Red keep an eye on them—Anshu to convince them not to try and escape, and Red to deal with them if they tried anyway.
Unfortunately, none of the smugglers remaining were of any real rank within the outpost. All were either fifth-tier or weaker, and only a few of them had worked in the office. Doubling his misfortune, when some of the smugglers had apparently tried to run, they’d instead gone into the office and started burning all the sensitive material they could find. All but one of those individuals had been killed when Alix, Alcander, and Anzu stormed the building. The last one was the man that Leon was essentially appointed the leader of the prisoners, though he’d not yet had anything useful to say—he simply repeated Remi’s threats that Leon had just made an enemy of the Saltwater Road.
For his part, Leon didn’t much care. He’d tasked most of his retinue to sweep through the rest of the outpost, including all of its warehouses, and make sure that it had been completely secured, while he went into the office and, after arranging some privacy measures, brought out his comm lotus and called the Director.
The Director was a little dismayed at what had happened during what was supposed to just be a place for Leon to stop, rest, and make contact with the Jaguar again, but Leon noted that he wasn’t that surprised. Fortunately, the Director assured Leon that he would use his contacts to make it clear that Heaven’s Eye would not tolerate any moves that Saltwater Road would make against Leon.
Leon wondered if the biggest smuggling ring on the plane would care for the Director’s threats, but he supposed leaving the matter to the Director would be the wiser course of action. If the smugglers decided to escalate this matter, Leon would be only too happy to hit back.
After the call ended and Leon exited the room he’d been using, he found Gaius and Valeria waiting in the next room.
“Leon,” Valeria said. “We found something…”
“Slaves,” Gaius, clearly in no mood to play around with words, clarified. “We found slaves. About twenty-five.”
“And one more,” Valeria added. “Santiago. He’s here too.”
Leon’s eyebrows shot up. He remembered Santiago: he was the leader of the soldiers-turned-bandits from the Cortuban Alliance that he and Elise’s caravan had dealt with on their journey from the Bull Kingdom to the Ilian Empire. After capturing the man, Leon had, for a short time, contemplated asking him to join his retinue, but had been talked out of it by his other retainers. He was grateful they did, but in the end, when Santiago had been condemned to die in the arena in the Alliance’s capital city, Leon intervened to save his life. He didn’t know what Santiago had gotten up to in the seventeen-ish years since.
“Really?” Leon said with a frown. “He’s fallen back in with bandits and criminals, then? Perhaps I shouldn’t have—”
“No,” Valeria interrupted. “He’s one of the prisoners.”
“Oh,” Leon whispered with a little embarrassment. “Take me to him. And the others.”
Gaius and Valeria led him into one of the larger warehouses, and Leon found the place emptier than he’d imagined it to be from the outside. Most of the shelves were empty, with perhaps only a third stocked with any wares. A full quarter of the warehouse’s footprint, however, had been devoted to cages and cells, and all quite well-built and as well-enchanted as the office had been. They were sturdy enough by Leon’s reckoning to hold at least up to third, possibly even as strong as fourth-tier mages.
Santiago, however, was a sixth-tier mage the last time Leon had seen him, but his momentary confusion was put to rest when Valeria pointed to the back corner of the cells, wherein Leon saw a dark figure chained up with what looked like hundreds of pounds of enchanted steel. Marcus and Alcander were working on getting the other imprisoned people free, so Leon entered the prison area and smiled at the recently freed who were profusely thanking his retainers—and now him—for freeing them.
By the time he’d gotten to Santiago’s cell, he’d gotten a better picture of the man. He was far gaunter than he’d been years ago, with the obvious signs of maltreatment marring his form. His skin was covered in what looked a lot like torture scars, being too clean and even for battle wounds, and Leon sensed the man’s aura, while still that of a sixth-tier mage, was weak and flickering.
Santiago groaned in pain but looked up as Leon approached.
“Ahh, Leon Raime,” he croaked. “It seems… you’ve saved me again…”
Leon just stared back at him, unsure what he ought to say. Eventually, he simply said, “… Don’t sound so put out. Saving you was an accident, I assure you.”
Santiago laughed, but it sounded more like a weak gurgle that had him coughing after only a few chortles.
When Santiago managed to get himself back under control, Leon asked him, “What happened to you? How did you end up here?”
Santiago momentarily glanced at the other prisoners, now freed and on the other side of the cell bars, then down at the chains that restrained him completely and prevented him from using his magic power. Leon noticed the looks, but when Santiago turned his eyes back toward Leon with a pointed, but silent question, Leon just stared back, wordlessly demanding the answer to his question.
With a weak sigh, Santiago said, “You saved me from the arena, but not my dishonor. It followed me out of that arena, and after I was escorted out of Andalus, one of the larger slaving guilds captured me. Given who I am, no one tried to stop them. I doubt the Cortuban government was even informed.”
“It seems that captivity has treated you quite harshly,” Leon observed.
“I… was not a good slave,” Santiago said. “No matter how much they tried to make me one. I was not one. I refused to submit to their orders, and I was repeatedly sold to whatever fat shitstain thought they would be the ones to break me. And now I’m here, languishing in chains, waiting for any delusional slaver who hasn’t tried yet to make a purchase offer.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I can’t tell you, it’s been a while and I don’t have any way to track the time.”
Leon hummed in thought and stepped away from the cage. “I hope it’s not too much of a surprise or insult that I’m not freeing you right away.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Santiago wheezed. “Take your time. Gods know that I’ve had to learn patience in these past few years….”
Leon nodded and gave the man an awkward smile, then turned away.
‘What the hells should I do with him, then?’ he wondered.
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