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Pyre coughed out a glob of phlegm before inhaling on his pipe. He crossed his arms and shouted, “What are you standing around for? It’s not going to build itself!” The hobgoblins around him stiffened and picked up the pace, hammering and twisting the metal slabs in their hands according to the dwarves’ orders. The enslaved angels paled as they did the same, but at a slower rate. Their muscles had atrophied after all the torture they went through. None of them dared to disobey Pyre’s orders. The first angel who had had his neck exploded by the slave collar.
Pyre nodded and squinted towards the wall. At the rate the mountain was traveling, they’d be within firing range by the time his project was finished. “Pyre!” a familiar voice called out. Pyre raised an eyebrow and turned his head.
“Old man Hailing?”
“Who’re you calling old, dammit,” Headmaster said as he stumbled towards Pyre, Linda in tow. Cory was assigned to escort the two. “All the digits in my age only add up to four.”
“You’re forty?” Linda asked and furrowed her brow. Is that what drinking did to someone? Turn their hair silver and create a mass of wrinkles on their face before they were even fifty?
“He’s a hundred and three,” Pyre said and snorted. “What are you doing here?” Before the headmaster could speak, Pyre held up his hand. “Wait. Let me guess. The capital implemented a draft and you wanted to flee. Unlike everyone else, you decided the best direction to escape towards was the west. But somehow, the timing was messed up and you were caught by the rebels.”
Linda’s eyes widened. She took a second look at Pyre and stopped at his red eyes. Half-demon? That still didn’t explain it. She asked, “Are you a mind reader?”
“Who’s she?” Pyre asked.
“Linda Bael,” the headmaster said. “I used her carriage to get through the checkpoint.”
“Oh,” Pyre said. “Someone from the Bael family. Outcast? Probably.” He scratched his chin and narrowed his eyes at Linda. “So you’re a greed angel. Interesting. Just a greater angel though.”
Linda bit her lower lip. She had never been seen through so easily before. Was Pyre that good at discovering it, or was she getting worse at hiding it? Cory cleared her throat, interrupting Linda’s train of thought. The harpy pressed her wings against her sides and said, “The harbinger asked me to deliver these two people to you. You can do what you want with them.”
“Got it,” Pyre said and nodded. Cory saluted before flying away. Pyre reached into his bag and pulled out a collar.
Linda took a step back. “I’m not putting that on,” she said and shook her head. “Nuh-uh, no way.”
“I can feed you to the hobgoblins if that’s what you’d like. They haven’t had lunch yet,” Pyre said. “Grawl, get over here.”
A black hobgoblin dropped the metal plank it was carrying. Its body was the size of a troll, but it didn’t have any flab. The hobgoblin lumbered over and scratched its head, muscles practically bulging out of its skin. “Commander called?”
“Are you hungry?” Pyre asked. He took out an empty bottle and used it to catch the line of drool leaking out of the hobgoblin’s mouth. Surprisingly, goblin drool was a good disinfectant. Pyre discovered it was the main reason why goblins could eat anything without suffering any detrimental side effects.
“Oh, look,” Linda said and lowered her head so her neck was on the same level as the collar in Pyre’s hand. “A necklace. I think it’d look great on me, don’t you?”
“Why are you enslaving people?” Headmaster asked and frowned as Pyre clasped the collar around Linda’s neck. “Wait, no. Did you create that specifically to enslave angels? I know this doesn’t mean much coming from me, but don’t you think that’s a little … wrong?”
“Wrong?” Pyre asked and tilted his head. “Hey, Grawl.” The hobgoblin swallowed while staring at Headmaster. “Am I ever wrong?”
The hobgoblin shook its head before pointing at the headmaster. “Snack. For me?”
“I don’t think I’d taste very good,” Headmaster said and coughed. “I’m all bone, no meat at all.”
“Crunchy snack. Good.”
“Go get some lunch from the trolls,” Pyre said, rapping his knuckles on the hobgoblin’s thigh. “Have them bring some for everyone. You’ve all worked hard. Just a little longer and it’ll be done.”
“This is a long-range weapon isn’t it?” Headmaster asked, admiring the construction in progress. The metal construct towered over them. The goblins and angels had to climb scaffolds made of earth to add on parts. “This … what happened to you, Pyre?”
“What do you mean?” Pyre asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Enslaving angels, creating weapons that could threaten the capital, leading the rebel army?” Headmaster asked. “Anyone of those by itself would mark you as a major threat. You’ve never shown any signs of betraying the angels.”
“I saw a chance,” Pyre said. “So I took it. Opportunity only knocks once. You’re the one who taught me that.”
“That’s true, but you have to consider the consequences,” Headmaster said, furrowing his brow. “I taught you that too, didn’t I?”
“Consequences?” Pyre asked and laughed. “You and I … tell me. How many years do you think we have left to live? Ten if we’re lucky? The only consequence I’ll suffer is one that’ll happen anyway.”
“Is this about your father?” Headmaster asked. “Hasn’t the life you’ve lived repaid you for what happened to your parents? The angels have been good to you. I’ve been good to you. You have a respected position at Hailing Academy. So why?”
“If the angels were so good to you, then why’d you flee from the first sector instead of staying behind to fight?” Pyre asked.
“They’re good, but not that good. It’s not worth dying for,” Headmaster said. “I already know how I want to pass—in my bed, drunk and choking on my own vomit. I don’t want to die a meaningless death.”
“But isn’t that the definition of a meaningless death?” Linda muttered under her breath. Pyre hadn’t given her any orders, so she decided to stay put.
“Do you know what everyone wants?” Pyre asked, ignoring Linda. He didn’t give the headmaster a chance to answer. “People want to leave behind a legacy. I don’t want to be forgotten with the passage of time. If my legacy is to be one of destruction, then so be it. Out of respect for our years of working together, I won’t put a collar on you. But if you get in my way…”
And that’s going to be critical. With no collar, the Headmaster will be able to give an order, and because of what he is, it will be obeyed.