Silvayn stood united at the doors to the guildhall. They had spent the last three days restocking their inventories and upgrading equipment. Kyra held a steel staff, replacing the splintered mess that had become her last staff in the clash with Feldspar, and was cloaked in holy vestments of Aliyah to better counter any dark influences. In her hands, it seemed as if it weighed nothing when she held it daintily in her fingertips.

  “Prepare yourselves,” she said, opening the door and leading the group to the backrooms.

  In the transit room, Gordona stood alongside Wolfram, dressed in ornately embroidered robes. She was attending as the Guild Mistress of Taos and though it was beneath the Council of Epoch in importance, she couldn’t be seen as lesser for fear one of the factions would seek to absorb her guild into their structure.

  She eyed the adventurers, each adorned with new accessories. Kyrie had upgraded his simple breastplate to something made of enchanted silver for increased flexibility. His sword had been enchanted as well to house a stronger slashing rune. Winnie wore a grander hat that eclipsed her head even more than her last one did. Within it was a library of scrolls for her to cast without needing to draw them. Eonis wore a bracer composed of the enchanted wood, Everoak, to allow him to fashion weaponry and ammunition on the fly. Even Gene seemed to have upgraded his appearance, modifying his costume to have an over cloak that resembled the one worn by Marcus Winthrop that he saw in Eonis’s memories.

  She smirked and said, “So, he’s prepared. Wolfram, ensure my guild isn’t destroyed in my absence. It’s time to step into the lion’s den.”

  Gordona stepped onto the teleportation circle with Silvayn in tow and with a sudden rush that made his stomach churn, they were gone.

  Hero System Notification: Awareness save succeeded. You have repelled an attempt to manipulate your perception.

  The hero system’s voice filled his thoughts before his eyes adjusted to the new world around him. They stood unmoored in the center of a gigantic room full of faceless figures. A prickling feeling shot up his spine as leaves began to fall to his left and flakes of snow fell behind him. Seated atop four thrones at a floating table encircling the center of the room were the Council of the Epoch.

  “Something’s wrong,” he thought in a panic, projecting his thoughts to everyone in quick succession. “Don’t believe anything you see or hear.”

  “Gene, be calm and look through my eyes,” thought Kyrie, suddenly. “Don’t let them know that you’ve seen through the illusion.”

  A double overlay clouded his vision when Gene focused his eyes to spot the differences between illusions. He heard echoes and had to take a deep breath to divide the sounds as he relayed the true meeting to everyone.

  Liris Vek wore leather armor, covering her head to toe. Her black hair was cut short, framing her face in a veil that obscured her aquiline features. In the eyes of the others, she held a look of apathy on her face but Gene could see the truth. She held a predatory smile and gaze as she set her eyes on him.

  To her left was Ilfas Illurian Ingot. The diminutive man was adorned in robes embroidered with golden threads and glittered with jeweled rings on each of his fingers. Gene could feel the spikes of anger in the group at the site of him and as much as he wanted to add fuel to the fire, he couldn’t let them succumb to their fury.

  Through their mental connection, he begged them to be calm, his eyes set on Derek Tzardiche. The Wood Elf glared in both the illusory world and the real one. A look of recognition at Gene’s attire flashed across his face, hardening his expression. He wore armor composed of dark wood that, coupled with his greenish skintone, made him look like a wooden sculpture. In one hand was a lance that towered over him where he sat.

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  In contrast, to his left, Talia Sparrowsbane wore a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Flowers adorned her gown and head, making her look more like a bouquet than a person. Pale arms reached out of the mass of flowers as she tented her hands in mild amusement.

  The murmurs from the spectators seemed to grow in volume until Liris slowly held up a hand to silence them.

  She leaned forward and said, “Welcome, members of Silvayn, to the Council of the Epoch. Please introduce yourselves.”

  The true her smiled even deeper and Gene heard the system speak again.

  Hero System Notification: Awareness save succeeded. You have repelled an attempt to charm you.

  Gene felt a pulse of energy ripple through him and the others, washing off of him harmlessly but taking root in their minds. Everyone turned to face her and bowed. Gene moved to join them a fraction of a second too late and he knew Liris caught this. To his surprise, she said nothing and didn’t react.

  One by one, the members of Silvayn introduced themselves until Gene was the last one left. He peeked up from his bow to her, ignoring the expression on her true face and focusing on her illusory double.

  “I am Gene Grey, level 15 Mindweaver.”

  His response was practiced, repeated in the same manner as all the other adventurers. Both of the Liris’s smiled in response before she asked, “Is that so? You may stand. Let us commence this session of the Council.”

  Hero System Notification: Awareness save succeeded. You have repelled an attempt to compel you.

  That time, Gene shot straight up the second he heard the system’s voice, moving along with the rest of the adventurers as he anticipated Liris’s effect. Released from her compulsions, they looked around, feigning confusion. Ilfas banged a small gavel on the table to pull attention to himself.

  “Now that Liris has had her fun, we can proceed.”

  Ilfas’s voice boomed as he glared down at them and Gene fought the urge to return the expression.

  “We’ve reviewed the results of the scouting quest assigned to Silvayn and it’s quite clear that things didn’t go as planned. Now, Mindweaver, I would like an explanation of this insubordination.”

  He yelled and Gene winced. It felt like he was being reprimanded by an executive several levels above him. Apart from him, Silvayn was a known quantity to Ilfas. He stood out as an outlier and it was clear Ilfas viewed him as the key variable that had thrown off his carefully crafted formula.

  “I–had been captured,” said Gene as he began the story he rehearsed with his party. “Like many of the others near the Spires, I was being taken as a prisoner to the Dark Lord’s castle. Lucky for me, they didn’t realize this circlet I wear was an artifact from Old Venturis, passed down in my family and they allowed me to keep it. I was lucky that Silvayn stumbled across me when they did. I was able to use the power of the circlet to amplify my spell to stun them so Silvayn could complete the job. Please don’t be angry at them about the Spire. It was my idea to push them to conquer it when we realized we had taken out most of their forces, thanks to my circlet. When we assaulted the spire, I was able to burn out the power of my circlet to repel the general, Tir, but sadly, now it’s just a piece of metal.”

  He took a deep breath after blurting out his story. Gene was never a theater kid and this moment made him see firsthand how stressful of a job acting could be. The Council was silent when he finished. He peered through the illusion to see confused faces all around. Derek looked to Liris and she shrugged before Ilfas cleared his throat and continued.

  “Well, okay. I suppose I must first commend Silvayn for their gallant actions. I’m certain a stunt like that was the stuff of dreams for a child that grew up with fantasies of being a hero.”

  Ilfas’s tone was condescending as he spoke down to them. They said nothing, only waiting to hear the ‘but’ that was sure to follow this hollow commendation.

  “But, your actions have now caused a chain reaction on both sides of this conflict. While we’ll have a reprieve from any expansion operations by the Dark Lord for some months, it will take nearly as long to rouse the nobles to action after this planned expense proved wasteful. Not only that, but we must run the calculations on the work debt you owe us now. I estimate at minimum 10 years on the frontline for each of you will cover 25% of the expense.”

  Gene wanted to blast him where he sat. Of all the things he didn’t expect to encounter in this new world, a slimy rich politician was at the top of the list. It seemed to him that no matter where you went, you couldn’t escape those motivated to action solely by money.