Only Villains Do That

I said that, because I had to—how many times in life are you gonna be served up such a golden opportunity? But realistically, nobody was getting in, and also this was clearly the end of the road as far as the truck was concerned, unless we wanted to waste a lot of time moving a gigantic barricade. On the contrary, it was time for everybody to get out—both those who’d been comfortably in the cab with me, and everyone else who was much less comfortable in the back.

“Yeah, so, I let him get away,” I explained to Yoshi while I dispensed Heals to my goblins. Nobody had worse than bruises and motion sickness, but it was due to my driving so I figured it was the least I owed them. “Some massed slingshot fire funneled him down the hole we wanted, and Zui said that only led straight here with no branches or side access, so we had plenty of time to get everybody loaded up. After all, it wasn’t hard to outrun a guy on foot in a truck. He didn’t even have to start teleporting until the end there.”

“You got,” Yoshi said slowly, “a truck.”

“Yup.” I decided not to give him a hard time for stating the obvious; I knew very well the sight of a guy just trying to process a truly ridiculous development. We didn’t all have showtime to help with that.

“It’s…it’s the truck.”

“Pretty generic, you ask me. I mean, I’m a guitar guy, not a car guy, so I’m no expert, but I can’t help notice the lack of any branding. Dunno why she’d bother with that, it’s not like Isuzu or Toyota can sue us here. Nah, it seems more like the platonic ideal of a white Japanese delivery truck.”

“Cos they’re not branded in any of the anime,” he said vaguely, still staring goggle-eyed at Truck-kun. “They wouldn’t be, no brand would want their product associated with episode one teenage roadkill… If anything, Kadokawa should branch out into trucks. Omura, I have so many questions.”

“The answer to all of them is ‘because Virya thinks she’s funny.’”

He sighed. “It’s a little scary how neatly that does answer all of them.”

“Right?”

“I can’t help noticing that you’ve had this for minutes and you’ve already wrecked it.”

He wasn’t wrong, Truck-kun was somewhat the worse for wear. The worst was on the front, of course, which had just bashed into a metal wall at speed, twice. Not at normal highway speeds or we’d all be dead, but it was going fast enough to crush a goblin and that was made apparent by crumpled fenders, smashed headlights, one torn-off side mirror and a windshield that was almost too spiderwebbed with cracks to see through. Not to mention the entire exterior of the cab was liberally painted with cream of Hoy soup. It wasn’t just up there, though; the white walls of the cargo compartment were marred with dings and long scrapes where they’d had rough encounters with the tunnel which, while technically big enough for the truck, was not designed for it. Less obvious from outside but growing increasingly plain to us in the cab toward the end there was the damage the uneven tunnel floor had done to the suspension.

Well, it was boxed in anyway. Time to invoke the other half of that spell.

Banish Delivery Truck.

The battered Truck-kun instantly disintegrated, leaving behind only faint swirls of glowing golden dust which swiftly dissipated on the currents of air constantly blowing down the tunnel. Its disappearance was so sudden and absolute that the coating of liquid Hoy all over its front end splattered to the ground, causing the nearby goblins to leap away, cursing.

“So…wait, that was it?” Yoshi demanded.

“Hm. Lemme try this out…”

Summon Delivery Truck.

It returned on command, standing there pristine and new. No damage, no mushed goblin in the grille, and—I knew, thanks to my being connected through the Void when this spell was created—a full tank of gas.

Banish Delivery Truck.

“Holy shit,” Yoshi whispered, staring at the empty spot where Truck-kun had stood.

“Apparently only one can exist at a time, unlike my slime-summoning spell,” I said. Which I was still mad about, because of how absolutely busted that would’ve been. It voided my first and best idea of stripping infinite trucks for parts. Man, the possibilities… I could’ve just holed up in Kzidnak, gathered together all the goblin alchemists and engineers, and fed them an unlimited supply of modern alloys, plastics, electronics, gasoline, and safety glass—and in two years my army of giant mechas would be stomping uncontested across Lancor.

Which, of course, was exactly why Virya didn’t let me do it. Both goddesses were filthy cheaters, but this game of theirs wouldn’t be fun if anybody got an advantage too great. Having an infinitely rechargeable modern cargo vehicle in the medieval setting of Ephemera was already such a massive asset that my head swam with the possibilities, but it was an asset I could only leverage once at a time, in person. Not something that would break the game itself.

“Lord Seiji!” Our respective ruminations were interrupted by Ritlit, who strode up to me and saluted. “I have conducted an impromptu poll amongst the troops, and goblins are about equally divided on the subject of the truck. Half would prefer a swift death over ever getting in that thing again, and the other half want another ride right now. I’m in the second group, by the way. Hint hint.”

“You know, Ritlit, I’m really glad you joined us,” I said kindly. “You’re a real breath of fresh air; it’s been great for morale, having you along. Now please shut up and go away.”

“Sir yes sir!”

“It was actually very nice up front in the part with the seats,” Aster said. “Very comfy. And it’s got these vents that blow cold air!”

“I coulda done without that,” Zui grumbled, rubbing her arms.

“How…many people did you cram in the cab?” Yoshi asked warily, as if he hadn’t seen us all disembark. Well, I guess this spectacle was pretty distracting.

“Plus me? Two talls and two shorts,” I explained. “Fits pretty well, with the goblins sitting on the others’ laps.”

“I know that was the absolute highlight of this whole adventure for me,” Maizo said, grinning. “Right, Naz? We should do that again.”

“Little man, you just remember that if I find it necessary to kick you in the nuts, your head will hit the ceiling.”

“There’s just one thing that worries me,” said Yoshi.

“One thing?” Flaethwyn exclaimed.

“If you just hit Hoy with Truck-kun… I wonder what other world you sent him to? There’s nowhere that deserves having to deal with Hoy.”

“Hell, Yoshi,” I said solemnly. “I sent him to Hell. Which is just super convenient for everybody; when I get there I can kill his ass again. All right, everybody okay? In good shape?”

“Thanks to Amell’s concoctions, yeah, we’re all more or less solid,” Zui reported. “Funny how that super special healing spell of yours doesn’t do anything for dizziness and nausea.”

“Yeah, the limits on Heal are pretty arbitrary.”

“Because that’s not an injury or illness,” Biribo said with audible exasperation, “it’s the body’s extremely normal and reasonable response to being slung around the way we all just were. Anyway, it’s weirdly quiet out there. Did you guys have much chance to look around here?”

“Briefly, but we noticed the same thing,” said Yoshi. “The station is cleaned out and deserted. And look at this barricade; you can’t tell from this angle, but from any of the station entrances it looks solid. Seems like somebody in Jadrak’s organization wanted it to seem like they were keeping you locked away while specifically not doing that.”

“Not just somebody,” Pashilyn added. “Erecting this would have taken a lot of teamwork. There has to be an entire faction among Jadrak’s so-called loyalists who are trying to undermine him.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting,” I mused. “Right, then. The trick now will be to hit him hard and fast enough to actually take him out without provoking him to sacrifice his followers.”

“The revelation that he’s having well-organized loyalty problems suggests that threat may not be as dire as we thought,” said Pashilyn.

“Less dire, sure, but keep in mind what we’re talking about,” Radatina warned. “Even if he’s only got a dozen or so goblins he can burn for Void spells…that is a lot of Void spells. Consider how much trouble we had just with Hoy, who only had the one plus his Blessing of Magic. What this signifies is that Jadrak is…probably not the world-ending threat we were worried about, but the risk is still of him turning into something we can’t actually beat.”

“Right, we need information and to check in with our allies before we do anything hasty,” said Yoshi. “Most immediately, we should go check in with Sneppit. She’s got Jadrak bogged down in negotiations but she said that wouldn’t last very long, and she’ll be in danger once it falls apart.”

“Wait, Sneppit’s here?!” Zui exclaimed. “This is no place for— I mean, she’s not one to put her own skin on the line!”

“Her intervention has been extremely helpful,” said Pashilyn. “As for her motivation for coming here in the first place, I suspect she considers the potential political gain to be worth the risk. She very nearly said as much.”

Zui clapped a hand over her eyes. “…of course. She would, that…”

“Right then, that sounds like step one,” I said briskly. “Let’s go extricate Sneppit and then we’ll move on from there. That works out very conveniently—I think I have an idea for how to resolve this mess, and she’s exactly who I’ll need to run it by first.”

Sneppit had chosen tactically advantageous ground, physically as well as politically. The chamber in which she was meeting with Jadrak’s representatives was accessible only from two directions; her forces securely held the accesses from her side, theirs from the other. It gave both parties to the discussion as reasonable an assurance of security as was possible under the circumstances, not to mention securing her own exit as she was not planning on the meeting reaching any satisfying conclusion.

It also meant, since Sneppit’s people welcomed me and didn’t impede my way, I had an easy time getting myself into the room with them.

“Sorry I’m late, work was murder,” I announced with ebullient good cheer, striding into the chamber. Conveniently, this was part of the old Fallencourt architecture built to tallfolk scale, so I didn’t have to spoil the effect by ducking. “What’d I miss?”

Half the goblins in the room leaped to their feet and retreated, one actually fleeing through the opposite door. Sneppit and Gizmit looked up at me with no overt sign of surprise, the three guards in pink armor not shifting from their positions.

“I should’ve known,” said one of the Jadrak-aligned goblins, who was now on the opposite side of the room, pressed against the wall and inching toward the door. “This is what I get for performing due diligence at a time like this. Did you ever have the slightest intention of negotiating in good faith, Sneppit?”

“Hey, hey, don’t take that tone with me,” she objected. “This whole time you’ve been hammering in the point that the Dark Lord was outta the picture and the effect that had on my bargaining position. Well, I gotta say, he looks a lot perkier than you were describing. Who was pulling the roots down on whom, huh?”

“Scuze me, I didn’t catch your name?” I said politely to the goblin who’d spoken.

He froze, ceasing his surreptitious movements toward the door now that my attention was clearly on him.

“Dunno what you’d need it for.”

“Well, it would make this whole exchange more civil, for once,” I said with a shrug. “I would prefer we all conduct ourselves like civilized people as much as possible. Wouldn’t you?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Right. Because if we didn’t… Your capacity for uncivilized behavior considerably exceeds mine, right?”

“You said it, not me.” I kept my smile in place.

“What exactly is it you need to discuss with the likes of me, Dark Lord?”

It wasn’t a name, but hey, we were talking. “Well, you’re obviously empowered to speak on Jadrak’s behalf, correct?”

“Up to a very limited point, in a very specific context, which doesn’t include anything involving you.”

“Still, you’ve got some standing; that should be plenty. All I need is to arrange a meeting with the Goblin King himself.”

Everyone in the room turned to stare at me.

“…huh,” Jadrak’s representative said after a moment. “Your terms?”

“No more skulking around, and if possible, no more wholesale slaughter of the goblins he’s supposed to be King of. I’m given to understand Jadrak is set up in that tower with the big green bedsheets, right?”

“Those are called ‘banners,’” Sneppit helpfully informed me.

“And there’s a nice, open ledge in front of that, in range of all the snipers and sorcerers he’s packed into there,” I continued. “The way I hear it, Jadrak made quite a spectacle of preventing the Hero from getting in. I wanna have a talk, in the open. That spot should suffice to assuage his fears of confronting the Dark Lord, I trust. If he requires more than covering fire by everyone in his organization who’s capable of providing it, well, that’s just plain unreasonable is what that is.”

“I’ll convey the message,” the negotiator said, glancing rapidly between me, Sneppit, and Yoshi, who’d stepped into the room behind me. “If King Jadrak agrees to your meeting, word will be sent here to clarify terms of—”

“Ah, forgive me, that’s my fault,” I interrupted smoothly. “Sometimes I’m not as clear as I should be. I am informing Jadrak, not asking him. I will be there in one hour, and I will spend that hour here in Fallencourt chitchatting with just everyone I meet about all the things I’ve seen and done in Kzidnak over the last few days. Spoiler alert: it’s mostly to do with all the goblins Jadrak has either deliberately murdered or carelessly gotten killed, about the imprisonment and torture I’ve seen done in his name, about all the Void witchery, the desecrated Spirits, and how his best buddy Hoy’s been out there treating his own followers so abysmally on Jadrak’s behalf that every time we’ve clashed a bunch of them swapped to my side. And oh, yes, I do have a bunch of Jadrak’s former loyalists with me who’ll back up my stories. So he can either come out and face me like a man, so we can settle this like goblins—with our words—or he can sit in his nice cozy tower while I turn the city against him.”

I took one long step forward, bringing myself past Sneppit; the goblin in front of me only didn’t retreat because he had physically nowhere else to go. Then I leaned forward. I had been doing my best not to call attention to the height disparity when dealing with goblins I liked, as it seemed kinda inherently condescending, but this was a moment when my words were best suited by emphasizing the physical threat I represented.

“If he doesn’t show,” I purred, “and I have to go in there and get him, it will not be so…civilized.”

The goblin stared up at me. His eyes were wide, but he otherwise remained admirably in control of himself, not outwardly showing fear. I guess they didn’t let just anybody handle negotiations.

“Anything else?”

I gave him a sunny smile, straightening back up. “I believe those are the salient points. One hour. Tick tock.”

“Guess you’ll forgive me if I don’t linger over goodbyes, then,” he said, sidling to his right and finally slipping out through the door. I stepped back again, creating some space for the other goblins on his side to follow him. To judge by the sound of footsteps retreating down the hall outside, they set off at a dead run.

“Aaaand…gone,” Radatina reported. “They’re out of earshot, and no lurkers are left nearby.”

“Good,” said Yoshi. “Omura, I thought the plan was to talk to Sneppit before enacting the plan?”

“Oh, was that the plan?” Sneppit said pointedly. “Well, better late than never. What’re we doing now, Lord Seiji?”

“Sorry about that,” I said as sincerely as I could, turning back toward her. “I would’ve preferred to consult with you first, but the second I pulled you aside for a private talk that guy would’ve bolted and this would’ve gotten a lot more complicated.”

“Sure, I get it,” she said, shrugging. “So you wanna confront Jadrak in public? I hope you’re not planning to assassinate him during a negotiation, Lord Seiji. You’ll never get any compliance from any goblin in Kzidnak again if you pull something like that.”

“So I had assumed. No… As much as we all want Jadrak dead, the reality is his final fate is going to have to be settled another time. What’s urgent right now is eliminating his ability to pull that soul trigger.”

“You want to attack his loyalty directly,” Yoshi said. “Beat him in a battle of words and cost him the public approval he needs to be able to use that contingency.”

“Exactly. And now I’ve forced his hand; I actually do intend to do exactly what I just said. The stories of his cruelty and greed are going to spread through this city as fast as rumor can travel. He will need to come out and confront me to put his own version forward in the court of public opinion.”

“So you’ve got him trapped and forced to comply?” Yoshi said pointedly. “Isn’t that the specific thing we were trying to avoid?”

“Also, I’m worried that dealing with Hoy has given you the wrong impression,” Sneppit added. “Jadrak is not like that. He’s the opposite of that; he’s a lot like you, in fact. He’s stylish, theatrical, and really good at making a speech. That’s exactly how he worked his way up into this Goblin King situation to begin with. Take it from somebody who knows firsthand, we’re not like the Fflyr; being a rich, powerful figure doesn’t get you ahead with the public in Kzidnak. Goblins inherently distrust power. Jadrak commands followers for the entire reason that he’s probably a match for you in the specific confrontation you just set up, Lord Seiji.”

I nodded. “You’re both right—or at least, Yoshi definitely is, and what Sneppit just said lines up with what I’ve been hearing. And in this case, those two problems combine to form a solution. I’ve put pressure on Jadrak, yes, but it’s pushing him into what he probably thinks is a winning position. He’ll take the bait and confront me.”

“And then,” Yoshi said slowly, “all you have to do is…beat him at his own game. Omura, I don’t know about this.”

“Me either, man. I can’t say I’ve been certain about anything we’ve had to do this entire time. But I can do this, I promise you. Nothing worth having in life is a sure thing; all you can do is count on yourself and your skills.”

Sneppit nodded approvingly. Yoshi still looked unconvinced, as did the other goblins who’d filed into the room behind him. And Pashilyn and Aster, who were both peeking in the door.

“Trust me,” I said, putting on a smile and projecting confidence. “This my arena, too. I can take him.”

Jadrak evidently thought the same about himself. One hour later, we were gathered on the plaza outside his new headquarters, which Sneppit had called the Core Tower. I had to admit, it was nice digs, even aside from the banners. If I were setting myself up as the lord ruling over Fallencourt this is probably where I’d choose to do it from. Something to keep in mind for when Jadrak was out of the picture.

Right on schedule, the Goblin King emerged. And, though I had not specified it in my message, he came alone. You had to admire the sheer balls—which, of course, was the point. I knew exactly what he was doing, and I conceded that it was some solid gold posturing. Behind me I had my entire entourage, the Hero and his party, two Judges and their respective Arbiters (Rizz and Gazmo were both present, and had been a big help in spreading the stories I wanted spread through the city), and a full line of armed goblins who a couple days ago had been Jadrak’s own loyalists. Coming out to plant himself in front of this display alone was the kind of powerful gesture that no amount of words could stand in for.

So, with just the opening move he’d put one over on me in sheer charisma. That wasn’t ideal.

I could tell at a glance that Sneppit was right. This dude had style, done up all in black and gold in a mimicry of Fflyr highborn fashion—which was a mimicry of Goddess artifact fashion (which I now knew to be a tawdry facsimile of Final Fantasy-esque JRPG art)—and unlike everyone from the highborn to the other goblins who’d tried this (sorry, Sneppit) even to most of the Earth anime it was all descended from, he actually pulled off the look. His posture and expression were calm, controlled, the bearing of someone fully confident he was in command despite facing a dozen different people who wanted to kill him and were very much capable of doing it.

Which was another point: he would not have stepped out here if he didn’t believe he could prevent us from stone cold murdering his ass. Whatever was peeking out from behind the windows of Core Tower would be some serious shit, and without doubt he had something else up his sleeve besides.

“Now, this is more like it,” the Goblin King said by way of greeting, and again I found Sneppit’s assessment correct: this was a guy who knew what his diaphragm was for. Everyone in Fallencourt was hearing this, and his voice showed no hint of strain. “You know, the Hero tried this earlier. It was one of the most disappointing things I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, now, I don’t believe that for a second,” I said easily, grinning and also projecting. “It’s not like I don’t know what kind of week you’ve been having.”

“Yeah,” Jadrak drawled, “as the principal cause of my annoyances, you’d be pretty familiar, wouldn’t you.”

I widened my smile, made my voice softer but no less audible. “If you wanted my attention, you could have asked. Shouldn’t have murdered the goblins I was friendly with, Jadrak. That’s the difference between us. I will not have anybody fucking with my people.”

We smiled at each other, cold and composed, while around us the city held its breath.

“So,” he said at last.

“So.”

This was it. The Goblin King and the Dark Lord, mano a mano. Showtime versus showtime. The confrontation we’d both been building toward since long before we knew it.

Both of us drew in breath, breaking the tension, opened our mouths like quickdraw artists in a race to be the first to speak, and then somebody chucked a bomb out of the Core Tower.

Not at me or any of my people; I only realized it was a bomb when it hit the metal bridge right behind Jadrak and the explosion sent shrapnel everywhere. Luckily for him, the Goblin King was out of range of the worst of it—and also, the son of a bitch was still poised while being actually, literally shelled with explosives, which was more than I’d managed. He barely flinched and didn’t duck or try to flee, just half-turning the second the explosion ended so he could look behind him without taking me out of his peripheral vision.

The bridge to the Core Tower had been taken out; nothing but twisted scraps of metal extended from both its original moorings. This particular part of the city didn’t seem open all the way to the core, so it was probably still salvageable, but that did nothing to help Jadrak right now. He was isolated from his support, alone with me and all my backup, unable to retreat.

Above, the green banners fell as the cords connecting them to the upper windows from which they’d been hung were severed. Fabric rustled as it plummeted; one fell right through the gap where the bridge had been moments ago, the others tumbling to both sides.

And then, from those same windows, new banners were unfurled. The fabric unrolled and came to a stop, securely affixed where the old ones had been.

It was plain at a glance that these were a rush job; they were all patched together from miscellaneous scraps, the colors of which were uneven. You could even see where paint had been hastily applied over the top where the creators hadn’t been able to find fabric that wasn’t black or red. But they’d done it; sloppy and rough as it looked, these were my flags. The crimson sigil of the Dark Crusade over a black field.

Behind me I heard an incredulous sotto vocce from Flaethwyn. “Wait. Slimes and…what?!”

“Hah!” Nazralind crowed, much less discreetly. “I designed that!”

Seldom had I wanted anything more than I wanted to turn around and see Flaethwyn’s expression in that moment, but I was still on the clock here. Showtime didn’t end just because somebody usurped it.

Goblin faces appeared in the windows of the Core Tower and along the other covered bridge linking it to the cavern wall, all of them staring down at their erstwhile would-be King. Their expressions were not friendly. They didn’t jeer or catcall, just glared in grim silence.

“Well.” Unhurriedly, Jadrak turned back toward me, and dipped his head once in acknowledgment, his wry little smile outwardly unconcerned. “I’m a big enough man to admit it: that was well played, Lord Seiji. Color me impressed.”

“I’m tempted to just take credit, but I’ve got a feeling that would bite me as soon as people started comparing notes,” I admitted. “I have no idea what the hell just happened. I didn’t infiltrate your headquarters, Jadrak; if you managed to lose the loyalty of your core army, I’m afraid you did that all on your own.”

Like him, I managed to be outwardly composed, but I was reeling about as hard as he had to be right then. Seriously, what in the fuck? We knew he was having loyalty problems, but this… And more to the point, where in the hell had goblin insurgents even seen that symbol? Sure, it was going up in an increasing number of places around North Watch, with some of my followers even starting to embroider it on their black masks and various other articles of clothing, but the goblins of Kzidnak should’ve had no opportunity to lay eyes on that.

Belatedly, it occurred to me that I’d had no direct communication with my people since leaving them with orders to hold the tunnel at Maugro’s offices. Had they managed to—

No. It took me an embarrassingly long few seconds of frantic thought to realize it, but I got there. The last time we’d seen any evidence of our mysterious, invisible dark elf ally had been right here, in the cavern of Fallencourt. The same dark elf who’d been skulking around North Watch for weeks and knew way too much of our business. The dark elf whose aid I had adamantly not wanted, after the debacle they created from our confrontation with the cat tribe.

Never had I been so glad to owe somebody an apology.

“Well, isn’t that interesting,” Jadrak murmured, then raised his voice. “Either way, Dark Lord, it sure does look like you have all the advantages here. I’ll admit it: you’ve got me backed into a corner.”

Oh, I did not like his expression. Still composed, but with emotion beginning to creep through, and that emotion was not fear. It was anger, a hungry desire for violence that I recognized because I knew it all to well, myself. Belatedly, I remembered the one specific thing we were trying not to do, here.

Okay, never mind. I was going to kill that fucking elf my fucking self.

“Listen,” I began, holding up both hands.

“How about you listen, for once in your life,” Jadrak retorted, baring his full complement of wickedly sharp teeth at me and raising one hand in what looked suspiciously like a ritual gesture. “Listen, and watch, while I make it clear exactly how out of your depth you are, human. I call the devil Ozyraph!”