Ruthless (The Completionist Chronicles Book 5)

by Dakota Krout

  “That’s a big nope from me.” Joe shook his head. “Just because you removed Aten from his position doesn’t make you the guild leader. Just someone with a power complex.”

  Joe’s words sent laughter rippling around the area. Banks’ face went red. “I am the only councilman present! By guild contract, I am the highest ranking person in the guild at this moment, which means I set the rules!”

  “No, actually.” Joe shook his head. “I was recently promoted to First Elder. Technically, that makes me the highest ranking member of the guild.”

  “That’s not a position! Wait… no… Aten would never give someone else as much power as he had in the guild!” Banks sputtered as he pointed a shaking finger at Joe. “That would make a massive breakdown in hierarchy! Aten is… he’d… grab that man!”

  “Nobody move.” Joe calmly ordered as a few people started toward him. Everyone stopped, a few of them shocked at the fact. Joe had just proven that he did, indeed, have the authority he claimed to have. “Aten, get up. What do I need to do to fix this?”

  Aten swallowed a few times, nodded at Joe, then started walking toward the Guild Hall. “Paperwork, Joe. Then a new vote after people come back to life. Give me twenty minutes.”

  “Do we need him?” Joe waved at Banks. Aten coldly contemplated the sweating man, then shook his head ‘no’. “Works for me. Over the wall he goes.”

  “S-stop! You can’t murder me like this!” Banks fixated on the looming wall as people grabbed him and pulled him toward the edge. “It’s not legal!”

  “Hold on.” Joe walked over and looked Banks in the eye. “You really are this dense? This isn’t about business, or a game, or legality. This is survival. What we are all striving for isn’t luxury. It's abyssal… survival. For that, this guild has proven that we are willing to be Ruthless. Throw him over.”

  There was a soft *pop*, and the ritual counter went up by a fraction of a second: too little to matter.

  Days later, Joe once again stood before the Royal Court, waiting to see if his actions would cause him to be locked away. He wasn’t cuffed this time, and he had been brought to join a large group to be tried all at the same time. He was led in, and found himself standing next to Aten, Mike, Hannah, and Big_Mo. There were a slew of other people that he didn’t recognize as well, but he was less concerned for them.

  The King sighed, and the room seemed to freeze from that single exhalation. “Over three million dead in under half a day. Thousands more perished, due to starvation and fear of the Corpse Plague. Mass rioting was averted, at least, but for that… we look back at the fear. This attack was not just ruthless. It was vicious, and serious punishments must be given.”

  His head shifted, and it felt like Joe had been punched in the gut as his diaphragm refused to move and allow him to breathe in. “Tell me what happened on your end first, Joe. I know you, and your character. You know mine. I need the unvarnished truth.”

  “Why does he get to-”

  The King cut off the new voice with a light hand wave. “Marquis Floodwater, wait your turn.”

  Aten stepped forward. “As Joe’s superior, all of this falls upon me. Joe was only doing what he could to patch our ship as we sunk. He did nothing wrong, or even out of the ordinary.”

  “I was the one who authorized the use of a magical reagent that Joe had expressly forbidden others to use, or even know about.” Mike offered, pushing Aten out of the way. “I even paid for it, knowing it was wrong. Please, if anything, the blame falls on-”

  “Me.” Hannah interrupted directly, her eyes shining from unshed tears. She looked absolutely terrible, the effect of the title Warlock V thoroughly destroying her charisma. “I was the one that redesigned the spell and pulled out all the safeties. I was the one that told Mike about the blood, and pulled the item away from the location where it had been securely stored. I put it into place without Joe’s knowledge.”

  The King snorted at the display. “Never before have I seen so many people falling all over themselves to take the blame for a catastrophe of this scale. How about you?”

  Big_Mo gulped as he found the King’s focus on himself. “No, I agree with Hannah. She kinda sucks to have done all that, and I think she should be thrown into the dark for a long, long time.”

  The room, as well as King Henry, were silent, unsure how to react to that statement after all the pleas for blame. The King coughed and moved on. “I’ll come back to this. Floodwater.”

  It didn’t escape anyone that the King hadn’t used the moniker ‘Marquis’. King Henry continued, “You, in direct opposition to my orders of destroying monopolies and the right to work, funded a war against a Noble Guild, a war that cost over fifty million lives… over fruit.”

  “F-fifty million? What?” Floodwater shook his head violently. “Your Majesty, I was simply trying to right the wrong he caused me! He stole the seeds that my family-”

  “Has had a monopoly on for centuries. Yes.” The monarch growled. “Do you know what a war totem is, Floodwater?”

  “I can’t be sure of the exact details-”

  “No? Because you supplied twelve of them to the ‘war effort’.” The King slumped into his throne. “Does everyone know that a war totem sets a bind point? Yes? Good. Did you know that it is the only bind point that someone can use if the conflict is ongoing, that it reduces respawn time to four hours, and that it forces the bound individual to respawn? All of the people that attacked… Towny McTownface… died to the Corpse Plague, on average, fifty-one times. The constant deaths and forced respawn have left their minds as wrecks, and somehow their characteristics have all fallen below the ten point threshold.”

  The room erupted in muttering as the ‘over fifty million’ was made clear, and the suffering was put in perspective. “For your part in this, Floodwater, you lose everything except your life, and I formally reduce all reputation you have with any crown-affiliated faction by four thousand points. Your wealth will be used in the rehabilitation of those that suffered due to your actions. Take this beggar out of my court.”

  Floodwater was seized and dragged from the room. The King turned to the members of The Wanderer’s guild. “As for all of you, you have a choice. Imprisonment, death until level one, or-”

  “Your Majesty.” Joe used every bit of strength and mana he had just to get those words out of his throat while Henry was speaking, then collapsed. The King stopped, and acknowledged him questioningly. When Joe was able to move again, he pulled himself off the floor and bowed. “Your Majesty, please. So much of this fell on my guild because of my actions alone. I antagonized all of the groups that came after us. The blame for this is mine alone.”

  “I came into conflict with architects, and the disenfranchised workers knocked over my walls. I set myself against the assassins, and they came to extract their price in blood. The fruit, though… to be fair, that was a gift. Didn’t even know it was gonna be an issue till later. Good call with that one.” Joe cleared his throat and talked over the muttering members of the court.

  “The spell used was my own, altered by my brilliant apprentice because I wanted to do other things, and was too lazy to carefully explain things. The blood used to cause this plague was collected and stored by me. My actions called the attention of these different groups onto us. Hannah, I’m sorry I failed you so badly. I formally remove the Warlock title.” Joe looked at his guild members, who were still fighting his words so that he could walk away. Hannah’s face literally shifted as her charisma came back into play. Now it wasn't nearly so hard to look at her. “It is hard for me to trust others, but these people have earned my trust, even if a few actions were not advisable. Still, the crimes are my own. Please allow me to be the only one to pay them.”

  The room was silent for a long moment. “Your spell, your blood, your actions. I know more of this chain of events than you think I do. I know far more about you than you think I do… and you are correct. Much of this is due to your actions. You just reached your seco
nd specialization, correct…? Yes, I see this too.

  “Then here is my ruling.” King Henry’s voice echoed through the room. “Joe, you are hereby exiled from Midgard. You will be able to return to your guild to put your affairs in order, but within twenty-four hours, you will be escorted to the bifrost. You will not be allowed to take anything with you, except what you are wearing. I formally reduce all reputation you have with any crown-affiliated faction by eight thousand ponts. Your exile will last a year and a day.”

  “One more thing. As you are demanding the punishment for your entire guild, that means you are taking their share of responsibility. This court gives you the title ‘Despised by Humanity’. If, after your time in exile, you come back with proof of significant efforts to promote and help humans, this title might be revoked.”

  You have lost the title: I’m a healer! I swear!

  You have gained the title: Despised by Humanity. Effect: You cannot gain reputation with humans that are positively affiliated with Ardania.

  “This court rests.”

  Epilogue

  Joe stood near a double-helix of light that stretched into the sky, giving his mother one last hug. “I’ll be fine! This was the plan all along, after all. I was supposed to go to the next Zone!”

  “But… all you have is your clothes! How will you fend for yourself with nothing? You have nothing!” Brenda sobbed into his shoulder.

  Not able to bear it any longer. Joe leaned into her and whispered. “It’s all goose. I have a Legendary storage device, one that the guild packed full of anything they thought I could use. The only currency I had was contribution points, since I already gave you the extra gold I have! I somehow gained over six million contribution points suddenly, so I went on a shopping spree.”

  Mike heard that last bit, and it seemed that he might start to cry. So much lost revenue! If it weren’t for the Guild Hall being stuffed with gear from all the collected loot gathered by the new Ruthless guild title, he would have been sent packing, useful to the guild or no.

  Joe patted his mother on the back one last time, then addressed his party, his Coven, and his guild leaders that had all come to see him off. “I’m looking forward to seeing you all soon! I’ll try to have a nice, safe location built up that we can all live in, okay? Jaxon… don’t collect the warrants for your arrest. It’s a bad idea.”

  “The wanted posters are free portraits, though! I keep artists in business!” Jaxon gave in after a stern look, sighing sadly at the lost opportunity.

  “Aten…” Joe grinned at the man, a dark smile that made the newly-reelected Guild Commander shiver. “I think you’ll be able to tell who isn’t loyal to you by the time you return back to the guild.”

  “What did you do?” Aten demanded nervously. Joe just laughed, which wasn’t at all comforting. “Joe? Joe!”

  Joe stepped into the bifrost, and waved his hand just before being yanked into the sky. He was moving faster than a rocket, and the ground was a thousand feet away before he completed a blink. He kept traveling at that blinding pace, but decided to use his time constructively. “Reputation… reputation…”

  Then he started laughing. King Henry had really known more than Joe had given him credit for. He knew about Joe’s storage device, and gave Joe plenty of time to go get anything he wanted or needed. He also knew that in terms of reputation… Joe had only lost half of what he should have as punishment. Instead of being thrown into ‘Hatred’, his lowest reputation score was still at two thousand points, ‘Reluctantly Friendly’. In a year, when he was allowed back, Joe would have plenty of opportunity to make up for the loss. Until then, he would work to become so powerful that his guild would become the number-one existence on Midgard.

  Joe crested the bifrost, and saw an entire new world laid out before him. Then… he started accelerating downward. The ground came closer, closer… and Joe was suddenly slowing. He landed right between two people who were glaring at each other.

  “Hello.” A musical voice called over as Joe peered around from the fluffy chair that he found himself in. He blinked as he locked eyes with an Elf. “Welcome to Alfenheim. You have a choice to make.”

  “Welcome to Svaltarheim, and the choice should be an easy one!” The Dwarf on the other side called out. “Join the snooty Elves and become a sworn enemy of the Dwarves-”

  “Or join the unruly mob that is the Dwarves, and become the sworn enemy of the Elves.”

  Joe tried to catch his breath, but every single moment felt like standing in the presence of King Henry. The Dwarf narrowed his eyes as he watched Joe struggle to breathe. “You… you didn’t wait to break the mortal limit before you came here?”

  “This one is clearly going to join the Dwarves; he must have no intelligence at all!” The Elf scoffed.

  Joe had a strange feeling that the two of them being in agreement was a very bad thing for him.

  “Cheers!” Mr. Banks was hosting a small soiree for his close allies, celebrating the deal they had pushed through while the trial was taking place. Not only was Joe out of their hair, but they had retrieved a large amount of power. Yes, Joe had been able to work with Aten to get the obstinate man reinstated, but it was only a matter of time before they had another opportunity to step forward and take their rightful place in the guild. They had certainly paid enough for it!

  The party was going well, and they had even received a small package containing Floodwater wine that had been delivered to them, all thanks to the now ex-Marquis Floodwater. Banks chuckled at the memory of finding out that they had gained so much, and now owed nothing to their benefactor. Truly, things were going splendidly!

  Banks finished off his glass of wine and filled it once more from the limited stock, before standing and tapping on his glass to call attention. “Thank you all for being here today! As you all know, we took some losses in the recent days. However, let me remind you of what we mang-gged to acc-ccomprish.”

  Mr. Banks coughed to clear his airway, then shook his head. No one’s eyes were on the bottle of Floodwater wine, else they may have noticed a shifting ritual diagram spinning up the neck. “Stho sthorry about that! Asth I was stahying…”

  He trailed off and clamped a hand to his mouth as pain flooded his gums. Everyone else was doing the same, and he gaped around wildly. Suddenly, his mouth felt full, and he spit out a handful of corn. Corn? No! That was… his teeth!

  “Ahh!” someone shouted as they saw what was happening. “We’re ruthless!”

  “Of courth we are! We alwath have been!” Banks slammed his fist on the table. “Whath going on here?”

  “No! Bankth!” The man tearfully pointed at his mouth, then to the teeth that had fallen out of the mouths of everyone present. He showed his empty, bleeding gums.

  “We’re ruth-less!”

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Ruthless! Since reviews are the lifeblood of indie publishing, I’d love it if you could leave a positive review on Amazon! Follow this link to be redirected to The Completionist Chronicles: Ruthless Amazon product page to leave your review.

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  About Dakota Krout

  I live in a 'pretty much Canada' Minnesota city with my wife and daughter. I started writing The Divine Dungeon series because I enjoy reading and wanted to create a world all my own. To my surprise and great pleasure, I found like-minded people who enjoy the contents of my mind. Publishing my stories has been an incredible blessing thus far, and I hope to keep you entertained for years to come!

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  About Mountaindale Press

  Dakota and Danielle Krout, a husban
d and wife team, strive to create as well as publish excellent fantasy and science fiction novels. Self-publishing The Divine Dungeon: Dungeon Born in 2016 transformed their careers from Dakota’s military and programming background and Danielle’s Ph.D. in pharmacology to President and CEO, respectively, of a small press. Their goal is to share their success with other authors and provide captivating fiction to readers with the purpose of solidifying Mountaindale Press as the place ‘Where Fantasy Transforms Reality.’

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