An accusation of that sort obviously led to a big stir. Looks of surprise, annoyance, and disbelief flung everywhere and from everyone, though most of them were directed at me. Regardless, I kept my eyes focused on the young Anymphea, Helike. I had full faith in what I had learned.

“I was saying no such thing!” she said. Typical. She scowled at the Councillors. “Your interpreter is not only faulty, but he also has no knowledge of manners and proper etiquette.”

After translating her statement for the benefit of the Zairgonites, I said, “Am I really wrong?”

I had directed my next question to the more elderly Anymphea, to Eilokolos. He looked a little like a fish out of water, surprised that his conversation with Helike about their plan to offer to up only the old, malfunctioning Bloomwagons to Zairgon was now the centre of everyone’s attention.

But unlike Helike, who was obviously acting like she couldn’t believe she had been accused of committing a crime, Eilokolos only looked more confused than guiltily flushed.

“I do not understand,” he said. “We are gifting Zairgon some of our Bloomwagons. Which ones we give should be left entirely to our discretion.”

I almost snorted. Okay, that was basically a tacit admission of guilt.

Se-Vigilance pounced on it as soon as I had translated it. “So you were intending to give us your faulty technology?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say faulty. That is perhaps—”

Helike barged in, desperately trying to continue her original farce. “Like I said, your interpreter was mistaken!”

“Really?” Se-Vigilance wasn’t convinced at all. “I don’t think so. A member of your own delegation has admitted to preserving the right to send us whatever you deem fit, faulty or not.” Her expression turned so imperious, so cold, I actually felt a chill run up my spine. “Perhaps we should find some faults in our city gates, faults that won’t be fixed before the Swarm arrives.”

I resisted the urge to whistle in appreciation. She was harsh.

Naturally, things devolved into a bit of a tumult. Point was, however, that Eilokolos’s admission of the discussion itself meant Helike no longer had any room to deny its existence.

Moreover, Ascelkos and Kyris admitted that they had no idea what was being said behind their backs, but they certainly didn’t approve of sending faulty Bloomwagons to Zairgon.

My job as an interpreter got a bit difficult when everyone was trying to talk over everyone else. I managed, however. Everybody was an adult here and wanted to get along in the end. Well, everybody save Helike. But stances were clarified and things eventually settled down.

To cap it all off, Ascelkos practically banished Helike from the meeting.

“Helike,” he said. “You will retire to the rear of the delegation.”

Helike’s face twisted. “But—”

“Now.”

She stood up stiffly before indeed retreating to the group’s back. But not before sparing me one last, scathing look. It felt satisfying to have foiled her little plot, though really, I was mostly a little aghast at her sheer audacity to do something like that out in the open.

Even if the geezer was hard to reach, surely she could have conducted that conversation with Eilokolos in a more private setting.

That was when I realized it wasn’t just about getting one over Zairgon or whatever else her goals and motivations might have been. After all, I was a mere human.

It was impossible to believe that I could somehow decipher the language of the Anymphea when far stronger, far older, far more experienced individuals had no clue. Unfathomable that a short-lived mortal who probably hadn’t manifested any real Paths could actually speak the same language as the Anymphea. It had to be some sort of trick.

To prove that, Helike had resorted to a more complicated version of their language, one that combined both words and gestures. And it had still failed.

I thought I saw all of that in her final parting scowl. Maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe I was being too self-centred and was biased from my other experiences in Zairgon. Fact of the matter was that I had foiled her plan.

With that little issue taken care of, and with tensions simmering down, the negotiations could proceed more smoothly.

It helped that the Anymphea profusely apologized and assured us multiple times that Helike’s malignance or anything of the sort would have no hand in our dealings. Se-Vigilance settled down after some strong effort from Wargrog, and the meeting went on.

“I have seen the error of my presumptions,” Eilokolos said. Unlike Helike, he sounded actually remorseful. “And to make up for that, I would like to offer another little deal. I am aware of the inner workings of some of the surrounding city-states. Claderov and Osthelm in particular. If such information can be of any use…”

The Se-Targa Councillor’s shining eyes narrowed in interest. “I am curious as to what processes you refer to,” she replied after my interpretation.

“Claderov’s Senators and their dealings, as well as intelligence on the Great Houses that rule Osthelm. All of them are old enough to have had dealings with us, you see.”

“Ah. Very internal matters, then, and from a perspective that would normally be difficult to attain.” Se-Vigilance exchanged a quick look with her compatriot Councillor before returning to the Anymphea. “Very well, then. The combination of that intelligence and the Bloomwagon technology is sufficient remuneration for a permanent residence on Ring Two of Zairgon.”

They went on to iron out a few more details. Those were mostly number-crunching about how many Anymphea there were and intended to settle on Ring Two, how much area of Ring Two and where exactly on Ring Two the Council could afford space, and so on.

Some of the talks were about this Blight Swarm too. Specifically, things like when the Anymphea had encountered them, how far off that had been, and other such details.

They didn’t get around to talking about what exactly the Blight Swarm was. Not that they needed to. I picked up a fair bit from context. Like everything else about the Weave, and this sounded related at the very least with the way they were talking, the name was, if not literal, then extremely meaningful.

A swarm of blighted monsters. That’s what the Anymphea were running from.

Councillor Wargrog clapped his large hands when there was a lull in the conversation. “Perhaps we can finalize our discussion after a short meal? I’m sure we are all a bit famished, just as our intrepid interpreter here.”

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That brought a round of polite laughter, some of which was obviously forced.

“Come, Intrepid Interpreter Moreland,” Se-Vigilance said, standing up to tower over everyone there, including the Ogre Councillor. Her wings furled out into a pearlescent plumage behind her as she smiled dazzlingly at me. I bemoaned my lack of sunglasses. “You of all people here certainly deserve a meal.”

The meal was interesting. Not because I was intent on enjoying food. Well, I was. Fare on Ring One was several orders of magnitude better than the insect gruel we got on Ring Four.

But the more interesting parts of the meal were the particulars that the different races exhibited.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t eaten with people who weren’t humans before. My adventuring party had a Scalekin and a Rakshasa, both of whom were far from human. But during the restaurant meals we had shared, they hadn’t ordered anything that I wouldn’t have eaten myself.

It was different in this extravagant breakfast that the Councillors had prepared for their guests. While there was the simpler food like bread with different condiments, eggs prepared in a multitude of ways, and what suspiciously looked like oatmeal, I was more fascinated by what the Se-Targa Councillor was drinking.

She was taking light sips of from a glass with liquid that glowed so blue, it shaded everything nearby cerulean as well. I wondered if it was some sort of exotic fruit juice or even a type of liquor, until a few stray splatters dropped on the table.

And proceeded to sizzle and burn, dissolving a hole right through the tablecloth and the furniture itself. Which was stone, not wood.

Well, that was one drink I wasn’t trying.

At a different section of our large table, the Anymphea were inhaling their food. Rather literally. Several of their delicacies were burning away, set aflame by the server, and the Anymphea almost all looked drunk as they breathed in the fumes, their expressions appearing hazy through the grey smoke.

“You did a fantastic job today, Ross,” the Ogre Councillor said. Instead of sitting by his fellow Councillor, he had seen fit to take up a spot beside me. A great honour, probably, but I also figured he was giving everybody else some healthy amount of space. “Had you not been here, we wouldn’t have made so much progress at all.”

“Not to mention,” Se-Vigilance said from the other end of the table. “Catching the… unfortunate intentions of some of our guests here.”

The Anymphea had enough grace to look embarrassed, but they really were a little drunk off the food fumes.

“We apologized, Councillor!” Ascelkos said. “Water under the bridge, surely?”

I wasn’t sure if that was an actual proverb here or if the Weave was just translating it that way.

“What my son means,” Kyris, who was clearly doing a much better job of holding onto her full faculties, said. “Is that we are very regretful that one of our own would dare sabotage something we have put so much work into and have prepared for so long. We reiterate our sincere commitment to prolonging the partnership between us Anymphea and Zairgon.”

“Please, relax,” Se-Vigilance said. “I was merely making a rather pointed jest, which was in poor taste, admittedly. Let us speak no more of it and enjoy our meal. You seem to be appreciating the… scents a great deal.”

Kyris laughed. “Please. These are fumes. Let us not mince words, Councillor. But yes, these are delectable. Perhaps I will bring you some plants from our Bloomwagons. Those provide the heavenliest of scents, I assure you.”

The meeting turned into a very laid-back kind of meal. I did enjoy it, and I had my fair share of food.

At one point, the Anymphea leader came up to thank me personally.

“If you weren’t there,” he said with apologetic appreciation. “We might have had a much more severe issue on our hands. So for noticing, I offer my sincerest thanks.”

I waved it off. “I’m just glad I managed to catch it too.” I was also glad it was just one rogue Anymphea—and perhaps a few others—and not the whole lot of them, but I decided against mentioning that. “Neat trick, communicating with both verbal and sign language.”

Ascelkos laughed nervously. Now that he was relaxing, I could see he was a lot younger than he had at first seemed. Son, Kyris had called him. Maybe all the formality of being a leader was adding a few years to him. “Speaking of neat tricks, it’s rather wondrous you’re capable of understanding us so well in such a short time.”

“Curious, are you?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. Although, I understand if you’d rather keep it to yourself. The way we’ve been talking, I have more than enough proof that it is indeed legitimate.”

Ah, right. I had slipped into the Anymphea language so easily while talking with Ascelkos, I hadn’t even noticed doing so. Sly fellow.

I just mentioned it was a Weave-granted ability, while also adding that he’d probably figure it out once he spent some time in Zairgon. Ascelkos said that he was looking forward to exploring the city.

Since we were all chatting light heartedly, a part of me wanted to take the opportunity to ask the Ogre Councillor about things related to the Weave. He was acting very familiar with me, and I understood part of it was keeping up the appearance that the Councillors knew about me and my capabilities all along.

It felt weird to ask him anything, though. We didn’t at all share the same kind of easy mentorship that I had with Master Kostis or Gutran, and it felt odd asking about “basic” things like what Augmentations would work for what Attributes and all that.

These were people who were well into Jade. When was the last time they had even bothered caring about an Augmentation? Surely there were other, more important and more powerful things about their progression and what the Weave granted them at those ranks.

After finishing a hearty meal, enduring—and enjoying—some nice compliments about my performance as an interpreter, and paying my respects to both the Zairgon and the Anymphea delegation, I decided to take my leave. They had decided to suspend negotiations for the day and would avail my services some other time, when able.

This had been a long morning, and it was probably well into the day by now, but I was looking forward to returning to the temple.

I was tempted to visit the Mage Guild. Master Kostis wasn’t going to be there, though, and I could register for another Augmentation class some other time.

For now, I went directly back to the temple. I wanted to relax a bit in more familiar surroundings, around people who didn’t drink acid that could chew through solid stone or burned food to inhale the fumes coming off it.

I had used Gravity on the way to Ring One but had stopped channelling it during the meeting since I didn’t want to alarm anyone. For all I knew, they had some sort of detectors present for the use of Aspects, and I really hadn’t wanted to be the cause of suspicion during important negotiations.

As I was going to practice with Flare and the new Affix for it that I had gained at the temple, I played around with my weight all the way back home. Had to get in the time with Gravity where I could.

Aqrea was back, taking care of things at the office.

“How went the meeting, Cultist Ross?” she asked by way of greeting.

“Brilliant,” I said. “Sorry for my lack of modesty.”

She just nodded. “Modesty isn’t becoming on a leader anyway. Not a leader of Ring Four, certainly.”

I snorted, then explained what had happened. It was nice that I was able to prove myself yet again, this time in a way that had directly benefited the Councillors. Now I had an in with the strongest people in Zairgon, so to speak. It might prove invaluable later on.

“You staved off a secret plot by the tribe to dupe the Councillors of all people?” Aqrea said wondrously, eyes round as coins. “The sheer audacity and that you alone was all that prevented disaster…” She shook her head. “You’re insane, Cultist Ross, but in a good way.”

There wasn’t too much cult business to handle. That was one of the nice things about having a capable delegate. The routine things were easily taken care of.

“Master Hamsik wanted to meet you, Cultist Ross,” Aqrea said before leaving. “He said he’ll be back later today.”

Huh. I wondered what that was about. Hopefully, not something to do with the Kalnislaw family.

I spent the rest of the day mostly training with Concentration. The more I channelled it, the more the threads of mana within me took on a molten warmth, the faster the ability to concentrate heat into a single point grew.

It made me wonder about the physics of it. At first, it felt nonsensical because didn’t heat energy need a medium to pass through? But no, not necessarily. Heat arrived from the sun through the vacuum of space via radiation, so the energy didn’t need a medium to exist, technically.

But I also told myself that informing my intentions with real-world physics, in a universe where magic superseded all logical possibilities with little trouble, wasn’t the best idea.

Hamsik visited late in the evening, when I was about to go to bed.

“You chose a fine time to drop by,” I said. “Everything alright?”

He raised an overly polished eyebrow. “Why? Are you too busy now as the leader of the Cult of the Sun?”

“No. I was just going to go to sleep so I can get started on Threaded Reinforcement early tomorrow.”

Hamsik looked nonplussed for a moment. “Threaded—?” He cut himself off and shook his head. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. This won’t take too long. I’ll cut to the chase. My family is worried.”

I could probably guess a ton of the things they might be worried about, but I decided to play along. “Why?”

“Because my wonderful role model of a half-brother has decided to up and disappear.”