Chapter 1133 – Back in Black 15 – Battle of Leadership


    It gave John life to see that, two days later, William was still scouring over his loss. He would have given a bottle of his most expensive whiskey to find out if the Lord-Protector had yelled at anybody. Directly after the battle, he had been composed, dark expression aside. Salty as he appeared, he had never questioned the validity of the Gamer’s victory.


    ‘God, how I wish to squeeze a lemon into that wound,’ John thought, biting the inside of his cheek. ‘Hold yourself back, John, the biggest gloat will be if you win again.’ “Alright, I’ve let you set this one up, explain what is going to happen,” he requested.


    “Certainly,” William gestured and his personal butler came close, holding a velvet cushion with two vials on it. It was an artfully crafted piece of glass, with a piece of cork sealing the tip. Inside it was an almost black, grey liquid. “This is Herkaslobin,” the Lord-Protector said, only gesturing at the vials. “Named after Herakles. Only those with the courage of a lion are supposed to withstand its effects. It’s a slow acting poison that induces terrifying hallucination. We will combine it with this.” He made another gesture and a second servant stepped close. “The Sphere of Kasradoom.”


    “...You might as well call it the Orb of Evil,” John remarked, looking at the object. It was a crystal ball that exuded a menacing aura. Shadows hushed through its insides, while it whispered in dissonant voices.


    “A crude if apt name, Gamer,” the Lord-Protector agreed. Following a glance, the servant placed a piece of cloth over the sphere. It silenced the whispers and dulled the dread. “It is a torture device that we kept after purging the blight of its creator from the Lady’s creation.”


    “And why didn’t you purge the magical object that has ‘doom’ in its name right after them?” the Gamer wondered.


    “Although its purpose is sinister, it has no intrinsically corrupting effects on the mind,” William responded truthfully. “We use it when training our knights. All of us must be able to face our greatest fears. The acolyte of the Order in this trial has not been subjected previously either to the poison or the sphere, you have my word.”


    “Well, I’ll have to find a volunteer for this,” John said and scratched the back of his head.


    “Volunteer? Informing them about the contents of this trial would taint its results.” William shook his head. “They must truly believe the hallucinations for them to have any meaning. Pick whoever you think will fare best.”


    “No,” John denied. “Subjecting one of my people to that torture without warning is unethical.”


    “This is a war, Gamer,” William crossed his arms. “Your soldiers will not get to choose when they will be face to face with true horror. To train them against it requires unprepared exposure.”


    “That’s not what they signed up for...” John shook his head, trying to skip the ethics discussion. He would have more success trying to talk Lydia to switch allegiances. “I cannot agree to these conditions. Unless you let me warn them in a way that doesn’t reveal the nature of the trial, I’d rather... forfeit...” the last few words passed his lips with difficulty.


    William’s jaw wiggled ever so slightly while he chewed at nothing in strained ponderance. Obviously, this was not the kind of win he wanted. John could understand it, because he would never want this kind of win. Surrender was basically the greatest threat he could make here. “My men would have heard of the sphere in passing... perhaps a mild warning will equal the playing field,” he reasoned. “Do what you must then, Gamer.”


    “I will.” John turned away and walked across the field, where the average soldiers were waiting. “Good news for most of you is that I only need one of you for today’s trial,” he told them. “Bad news is that that one will go through an extremely unpleasant experience. That’s all I can say. Any volunteers?” All of the soldiers stepped forwards. “I mean it, you will probably think you’d rather die,” John gave a second warning. Still, nobody stepped back. ‘Fantastic, lots of choices,’ the Gamer thought and Observed all of them. They had the exact same level, but Stat distribution wasn’t the same. Going with the person with the highest Intellect or Endurance would serve him the best. Willpower seemed to be represented by those two Stats.


    After he had made his choice, he told them to remain on standby and returned to William to discuss the rest of the rules. “Behind this wall,” William said and pointed at the arena-esque structure the Fateweavers had put up for this trial, “is a course with two lanes, about fifteen metre long, that has the Sphere of Kasradoom at the end of it. Once the Herkaslobin starts working, the contestants will attempt to reach the Sphere, and whoever touches it first wins the competition for their side. Our duty will be to motivate them along this terrifying path.”


    ‘This is going to be difficult,’ John thought, even as he nodded. Religious zealotry gave the Order an edge in this situation. William’s leadership capabilities wouldn’t be as much of a factor as the Lord-Protector might believe. ‘Which only makes it sweeter for me if I win anyway. Not like I didn’t just ensure an advantage myself.’ “Alright then, let’s get this started.’


    “You owe yourself that duty!” John declared, remaining right where he was. “Who do you want to be, Brandon? There is no value in someone who can only do what is easy. This task, like all tasks, will not become simpler because you approach it. I ask you to be braver in the face of greater adversity because you can be! Every step you take towards that goal proves that you are bolder than a moment before. Show me courage, Brandon. Expand beyond what you are. Stand and be heroic.”


    The Gamer had more words in that speech, but stopped when Brandon’s shivering suddenly calmed. His hands clenched into fists. “Heroic... like Mark, sir?”


    Hesitating, John looked around him. To him, this was an arena in the middle of nowhere. Did he dare to compare what Mark had gone through to whatever Brandon was experiencing? His eyes fell on the Order’s soldier, only three steps removed from the Sphere now. ‘Would that ensure victory... stop it, John, be honest.’ “Not as heroic, no. You would prove you have the spirit.”


    “That’s... enough...” Brandon groaned and fought his way back to his feet.


    John was honestly surprised to see the previously quaking soldier take one large stride back to the position at which he had fallen. It only took a deep breath for Brandon to take an even larger step, followed by another. ‘People need their idols,’ the Gamer realized, watching the mortified man marching towards the object he feared most in life. The shivering returned and soon the motivated steps were replaced with quivering paces, accompanied by a constant gasping for air.


    He never stopped.


    It was awe-inspiring, in a way, to see someone let themselves be possessed by an ideal greater than themselves. That was what this completely average man, Mark, had become in the mind of the Fusion military. John had meant to honour him with the speech on New Years. He hadn’t realized, not until this moment anyway, just exactly how powerful the picture he had painted had been to everyone else who was in the same base position as Mark had been.


    The Order soldier slowed down. Filled with conviction for the Lady as they must have been, they still had to come to terms with overwhelming terror. The man’s hand was raised, steadily creeping towards the orb. It wasn’t a question of if they would touch it, only when.


    On the other side of the podium, Brandon stopped and took another deep breath. He didn’t let it out. His eyes were open wide and bloodshot. His knuckles were white as bone. His entire body shivered. He looked like a crazy person and like someone that needed to be anywhere else. “You can do it,” were the only words John had to offer as encouragement. All of the admirable ideals were already inside this person. Only the act itself was now required to manifest them in reality, in any small way.


    “I... CAN!” Brandon shouted and raised his hand in a rapid motion. His palm fully connected with the ominous orb. Moments before the Order’s representative followed suit.


    ‘YES! Victory!’ John thought, feeling a smile form on his lips, while he glanced over to William’s sour expression. All joy he felt was eliminated in an instance, when it dawned on him what his instinctive priorities had been. “You’ve proven yourself, Brandon. You can step back now.”


    After one more second of lingering, likely proving to himself that he could remain now that he had made it this far, Brandon hastily retreated. Courage had been proven, but it couldn’t have been pleasant to be in his state. The sphere was quickly covered, leaving both men in a state of general fear that was comparatively mild. An antidote was administered. With a pat on the back, John sent Brandon to his fellow soldiers. They certainly had praises for him.


    John should have had more to say to the exceptional display. If he put his mind to it, he knew that he could have found proper words. Finding the correct tone for them felt like it was beyond his current capabilities.


    “You appear quite disgruntled,” William observed, sounding confused. “You won.”


    “Yes. Yes, I did,” John responded and rubbed his forehead. “That was the first thing I realized. I didn’t feel any deep respect, awe or concern for the man that just managed to march through magically induced fear. That was second.” He let his hand fall down. “In one sense you are definitely right about me, Lord Brighton: I’m not a good man.”


    “...Better than I thought,” William declared and walked away.@@@@