Julius turns to Laurent, who gets the signal and nods. He sweeps out of the throng and stands before the messenger. “I’m the sorcerer. But I’ll have you know that I didn’t kidnap the neighboring villagers without their consent.”
Oooh, Laurent has picked up the torch. And he protected my honor! What a guy! You tell ’im, Laurent! I didn’t kidnap without consent. I made sure to ask, “You don’t mind, right?” before every abduction!
Surprise flickers across the messenger’s round face. Then he lets out a deep, mocking laugh that reminds me of a strained foghorn.
“What? A child like you? Hahaa. I see, I see. Seems like this village has naughty adults taking advantage of naïve little children. Gee, I need to take a page out of your book,” he says, giving Jasper a loaded look.
He probably figures Jasper tricked Laurent into becoming this small village’s sorcerer.
He’s totally wrong, though! Laurent became a sorcerer against my wishes! Of his own making! My beloved Elle Village doesn’t have a single naughty adult in it.
And anyways, hasn’t this guy been overly rude, from his word choice down to his almighty attitude?! He pisses me off! Also, he’d better quit cruising Canna’s figure with those pervy eyes!
“I’m not a child!” Laurent protests. Air rushes around him in a powerful gale. This magical wind pressure is different from naturally occurring gusts of wind.
I didn’t feel the clean flow of magic that comes from a magic circle or from forming the spell with hand signs, so it seems like his magic is running a little wild in response to his emotions. Laurent is a genius, but he’s a bit of a double-edged sword whenever he’s treated like a child and becomes so upset he hurts everyone around him.
But the sudden burst of wind magic seems to have scared the messenger. He lets out a small yelp and hides behind the hooded pair.
Seeing the cheeky man trembling in his boots, I fist-pump the air with a “You tell ’im!”
Good job, Laurent! Your sensitive heart seems to have done a wonderful job of scaring that loathsome man! Ratface shouldn’t be provoking a sorcerer if he’s that scared of them. Foolish Gaean messenger!
“Stop that. Magic isn’t meant to be used for such negative sorcery,” instructs the taller of the two cloaked figures while I’m secretly cheering Laurent on.
There’s a dignified weight to the voice that lends it an authoritative edge, like someone used to ordering people around. Who is he? The messenger made it sound like they’re hired sorcerers…
Laurent quiets his magic with a frown. The whooshing winds cease.
“I just turned seventeen. I’m an adult,” Laurent insists for good measure.
Isn’t he a little too hung up on that? Then again, he is in the height of adolescence and particularly touchy about those things, so the rest of us have to be more sensitive around him.
“Bah! Shut up! Insolent heathen, you dare threaten me, His Lordship’s confidant, with magic?! Take him down! Now!”
Meanwhile, the messenger has cast his grimy act to the wind and is throwing a fit. He’s bellyaching and pointing at Laurent from behind the two cloaked figures.
The sorcerers share a look.
“He didn’t harm you in any way,” the woman contends in an exasperated voice. “Young sorcerers often struggle from their magic running amok with their volatile emotions. Furthermore, weren’t your intentions to speak with the village mayor first?”
“There’s nothing to talk about! There’s a dangerous sorcerer right there!” he asserts. His face erupts into a volcanic red upon seeing the lack of action taken by his magic bodyguards. “Useless magic users! You dare forget the debt you owe me for hiring you filthy, wandering sorcerers!”
The cloaked figures don’t take the seething, cursing messenger’s bait; they merely look down at him in silence.
“Pieces of shit! I’m done with you! I won’t ask again!” he bellows, angrily turning to the row of armored men. He closes his mouth before he barks whatever orders were on the tip of his tongue.
Wondering what stopped him, I follow his gaze to Canna. His eyes narrow with some nefarious plan and perversion warps his expression. He clears his throat and slowly turns back toward Jasper.
“Ahem, I spoke a tad out of line there. My bad, my bad. Speaking with you will give me a better idea of what kind of…village this is. Leave the judgment to me, the messenger trusted by His Lordship,” the man avers, suddenly returning to that nauseating smarmy voice. “Mr. Jasper, you are undoubtedly the village head here, correct?”
The way he did a complete one-eighty is extremely disturbing. Even Jasper warily replies, “I am. What of it?”
“In that case, let’s discuss the future of this village without these pesky sorcerers. Either way, if you have decided to build a village in this territory, you will have to pay taxes. You haven’t paid anything up until now, so we have to decide on that amount as well,” the messenger claims with his trademark smug grin.
Taxes are understandable. Jasper told me that you have to pay a land tax in the form of crops and money if you want to live in Gaea. Failing to pay will lead to powerful people such seigneurs coming to destroy the village. Going along with Gaean law is the best way to secure Elle Village’s stability.
But I don’t wanna pay anything when the person demanding payment is this despicable. Not to mention his volatile emotions don’t bode well for a fair deal…
I cautiously watch over the proceedings as the messenger faces the two cloaked figure again.
“You proved traveling sorcerers are utterly worthless, so you don’t have to come with me. Cheeky magic users can keep watch here. Oh, and if you dare disobey me again, I will tell His Lordship to punish you severely. Tread carefully.” He looks at them with disgust.
The tall sorcerer shrugs and gives a curt “Got it.”
Frowning, Jasper glances at Julius. With a nod from him, Jasper formally faces the messenger. “Very well. Please come to my mansion first, then. I will listen to what you have to say there.”