NOVGO.NET Chapter 440: Useless
***
{Outside The Projection}
As always, Malik’s words were too damned cold.
He’d already figured “intruders” out the moment he saw them.
There was no other way this could have gone, but still…
‘How unfortunate.’
Malik saw it as unfortunate.
A single word with many meanings.
Though one stood obvious to them all.
His desire for their technology.
Perhaps that was the Sultan in him speaking.
Even then, he was thinking about bettering their lives.
But he knew better than to be greedy, destroying all that remained.
Their bizarre attacks made them too alien to be trusted.
Seeing as how most of Fam Iblis were alive today, he’d done well.
And, of course he did; he was their Sultan, the protector of this realm.
Not a mere king, no… he was a minor step below Malāk…
The second strongest Divine Rank, a literal Angel.
He was already a minor step below THAT.
Above the two minor Mithqal ranks.
Mithqal Al-Haris… the Keeper of the Rukh…
And Mithqal Al-Jabal… the Balancer of Titans.
He was a Mithqal Al-Khalid.
An Eternal Spellcaster.
In a time far less than a hundred years…
Malik had already crossed the barrier into what most found impossible in a thousand.
He’d done so without anyone knowing, though thankfully for a certain owl’s psyche, he was excluded from such a grouping, as he couldn’t possibly not know, gaining incredible strength every time his Elder Brother increased in rank.
Dunya was the same, though it was only because he barely hid anything from her.
She knew him in a way no other did, his sweetest and closest confidante.
Anyhow, it was why Sinbad was so strong when compared to the others.
Scheherazade, too, making it obvious that her rank was the same.
She was on the cusp of becoming a Malāk for longer than many generations had even lived.
A fact that hadn’t eluded the hall, making them move away from her once more.
The heroines didn’t really care for such a reveal; it wasn’t exactly hidden.
Scheherazade didn’t care either, her almond eyes not leaving the projection.
Although Sinbad and Azeem were unaware of the “invaders,” she certainly was.
Rather, she even taught a few Sultans about their existence, showing them how best to destroy or defend against them.
And it seemed that, without needing a mentor…
Malik had fulfilled her every requirement.
Her smile turned bittersweet.
‘Maybe if I asked him again, he’d…’
She didn’t dare complete that thought.
***
{Inside The Projection}
The room was round, walled in pale, polished stone.
A single big table sat in the center, more circular than the usual oval.
It was covered in scattered parchment and cups of tea long gone cold.
Around it were familiar faces.
Safira.
Duban.
Noor.
Roya.
And at the head was, of course, Zafar.
Malik, invisible as he was earlier, stood directly behind him, leaning his back against the wall.
His unseen shadow stretched long over Zafar’s shoulder, swallowing half the table in darkness.
He looked down at the white-haired boy…
If he wanted, oh, he could so easily end this little gathering before any of them even thought of drawing their next breath. Zafar wouldn’t even have the time to realize he was dead.
The one claiming himself to be Malik’s biggest enemy…
He, who took the first step in forming this coalition…
One Hell-bent on getting rid of all ‘evil’ in the world…
Naming it Heroic, supposedly basing it on himself…
All of it would end in a heartbeat, and yet…
Malik didn’t move; he only watched.
And they, like those before them, were none the wiser.
“…So.”
Zafar’s voice broke the stillness.
“You won’t reconsider?”
His eyes shifted between Safira and Duban.
“As much as I’d like to join you… Avenge my father, my people… we have our principles.”
Duban exhaled slowly, shaking his head.
“He might be our killer, but he’s also our savior. My hands won’t be the ones to drag him down.”
His gaze hardened.
“But if you do somehow manage it, I’ll celebrate your victory.”
Zafar frowned.
“‘Principles,’ we—
“No means no, boy.”
Safira didn’t bother to look at him when she spoke.
“The Sultan is my teacher. My savior. I won’t help in killing him.”
Across the table, Noor let out a short laugh.
“He’s our ‘teacher’ too, you know?”
Safira’s eyes cut toward her, burning with contempt.
“Then you should stop this. He made you who you are, and yet you dare go against him? Biting the hand that feeds you like a damned dog.”
Zafar slammed his palm against the table, tea cups rattling.
“He lost that right when he massacred the Academy! When he killed all of Noor’s people! Her entire family—even her father, the king himself!”
It was obvious to everyone that the last line was for his self-interest, trying to score points with Noor, but no one called it out, too busy trying to stay out of this fight.
“So what?!”
Safira leaned forward, her rage easily squashing his.
“He abandoned me. Killed my people on a day of celebration. Do you see me joining you? No. Because I know what I owe him, even if it’s soaked in blood.”
She turned her fury back on Noor.
“You have no principles. You don’t care that he killed your own; you just want him dead because he doesn’t kneel to your little empire… He’s so far above you, pushing you around as he likes, and yet you don’t see it, too stuck in your own inferiority. Constantly wagging your tail to gain his attention. DAMNED DOG.”
Duban looked at Safira with obvious surprise.
It was the first time he heard his Lady talk in such a way.
Unlike him, though, Noor took the words like she was expecting them.
“I’ll ignore your insults…”
Her lips curved into a smile, and her tone dripped venom.
“Only animals need such crude language, but ‘push me around?'”
Noor leaned on her elbows, eyes narrowing.
“Do you really think so?”
She gestured to the maps on the table.
“You know this battle will win us territory. A major victory. It will put our coalition on the map as a real powerhouse, giving us the opportunity for expansion further up the South, getting us closer to the Holy City.”
“…”
Safira didn’t answer, caring not for her words.
“And you…”
Deeming it her victory, Noor’s attention slid across the table until it found Roya.
“Tell me, did you speak to Layla yet? We have to get her on our side.”
Malik’s head tilted slightly.
‘…They dare speak to her?’
It was the first flicker of movement he’d made since taking his place.
His spine straightened against the wall as he barely held himself back from ending them all.
THEY WILL NOT USE HER AS A DAMNED TALKING PIECE.
“Yes, but…”
Roya shook her head.
“She didn’t even entertain a meeting.”
A fact that had just saved their lives, for Malik relaxed once more.
“We can eventually make her crack, but that’d take a while.”
Roya’s ice-blue eyes shifted to Safira.
“Seems she’s like our disciple.”
Duban flipped her the bird.
“Go fuck yourself, witch.”
Ignoring him, Roya gestured at Noor.
“The Speakers say anything? We haven’t heard anything from them yet.”
Noor shook her head, her face showing disappointment.
“It seems most are following the Twelvers’ lead. We’ve only got the Hashashins; they’ve gone rogue, so they’re easy to control, and the Paladins of Templar, the most fanatical bunch. I almost pity how simple their minds are.”
Zafar raised a brow.
“The Originists went neutral too? Really?”
Before Noor could answer, Roya pointed at one of the maps.
“They’re staying back, preferring to profit off the war. In those lands, I’ve marked all the Goldsmiths we’ve had to borrow from, and nearly all of them are in their control.”
Zafar sighed as he looked down.
“So they’re the real winners here, huh?”
While he had his little revelation, Noor asked:
“What about Huda? I hear she’s making a fuss of her own in the North.”
Roya nodded.
“Yes, but she’s too unstable right now to be of use; give her a few… tens of years.”
Noor clicked her tongue.
“Useless. I’m the only one getting any work done here.”
Roya’s head snapped up at her.
“I’ve not once insulted you, Lady Noor. You must honor me the same.”
Noor chuckled at her threat, about to reply, before Zafar suddenly stepped in:
“Please, Noor, don’t—”
Only to be shut down by Noor, Roya, and Safira, respectively:
“Quiet.”
“Stand down.”
“Please lower your voice.”
Zafar was the leader in all but name.
No one really listened to him, it seemed.
…This meeting wasn’t going anywhere.
Malik’s gaze swept over them one more time.
None of this would change the outcome.
The lines had already been drawn.
He was done here.
Thump.
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