Iris’ words were like prophecy, and Arthur wondered how often his girlfriend timed things for such a magical effect. Unlike the time he’d gained tier 2 System access, unlocking tier 3 came without a timer. One moment, he was discussing the future with Iris, and the next, he was inundated with notifications.
Arthur quickly skipped past those.
It was a lot to take in, and Arthur quickly minimised all the windows.
“Perfect timing?” Iris asked, smirking.
Arthur nodded. “So, tier 3 System access. What exactly does it entail?”
Iris considered things for a second before answering. “Honestly, it isn’t too different from tier 2 access. You just have the key to a few more features. Faction building and management. The world ruler interface I’m sure you’ve already seen. You also have access to a few markets that were previously restricted to you, and you can now trade in items instead of using System credits for everything. It's a necessity for higher-level trades. All things considered, I think it's more apt to call it tier 2.5. You're not getting anything so special out of it that can’t be accomplished another way. Oh yeah. And your System bulletin is ad-free now. That's probably the best thing out of it all.”
Arthur mock groaned. “No ads. That was the only thing preventing me from getting addicted.”
“Don’t even joke about that, Art,” Iris replied. “I used to spend over ten hours a day doom scrolling when I was a teenager. My dad ended up sending me to an addiction camp for three weeks. That place was literally hell.”
Arthur couldn’t tell if his girlfriend was joking or not. “So how does this world rulership work?” Arthur asked. “I’m guessing it’s a little more complicated than just using a System interface.”
Iris smiled. “I have some good news on that front at least. Running an intergalactic empire is a logistical nightmare, at least when you try to do it yourself, and I sincerely doubt you're interested in the empire running buisness. That's why most people hire a management company to run things. There's a wide variety to choose from, but the best in the business is undisputed. IMA, The Intergalactic Management Agency. They’ve cornered the market and have been operating for over 7,000 years. They’re also very pricy—so pricey, in fact, that Melania was hiring a sub-par company to manage hers.”
“What’s the cost then?”
“A flat 5% of all the money your empire makes in a year. No negotiating, no differing payment plans. They set their price 7,229 years ago, and they haven’t changed it since.”
Arthur considered her words. 5% didn’t sound like that much at first, but when you considered the amount of money that moved through an intergalactic empire, 5% was an astronomical sum, measurable in the trillions. Still, the more Arthur considered the business model, the more discrepancies arose.
“They don’t just take on any old clients, do they?” Arthur asked, realisation dawning on him.
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“They have a strict criteria that all customers must meet,” Iris confirmed.
“And we somehow meet them?”
“Only just. As bankrupt as The Vesalius Empire may be, we move a lot of money around. Enough that Melania qualified to start hiring them 6 years ago.”
“Why didn’t she, then?”
Iris shrugged. “I’m guessing she was happy with the way things were. Her company wasn’t perfect, but they did a decent job. And 5% is a lot of money to give up. If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it. That seems to be the philosophy lady Melania lived by, and she was managing her empire's debt fine. Hell, most empires are in a deficit to the banks.”
Arthur grimaced. “Now if only that philosophy stopped her from experimenting on perfectly fine people, she would’ve still been alive. Will IMA still work with us now that she’s dead? After all, she was responsible for at least 50% of all revenue her empire made.”
Iris shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure. It's a toss-up. Maybe they’ll want you to run the empire yourself for a year or two and see how you do. Or maybe they’ll trust your growing legend and bet on your success. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
Arthur scrutinised the fae princess. “Let me guess. Their agents are going to suddenly teleport in.”
Iris gasped, placing a hand on her chest. “I would never do such a thing, Art. Roger's actually on standby right now. He’s waiting for your permission before teleporting in, dear.”
“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you, Iris?”
“No,” Iris immediately denied. “Okay, maybe I’m teasing you a little bit, but the mark of a good seer is that they anticipate their partner's needs before they voice them. It’s what my teachers taught me.”
“You had some questionable teachers, Iris.”
The fae flushed. “Well, they taught the lesson in the context of adventuring teams hunting monsters,” Iris mumbled. “I just extrapolated and applied the lesson to other parts of life.”
Arthur chuckled and decided to stop giving Iris a hard time. “You can tell him to come here now. No sense in delaying things. Oh, and tell him he’s allowed to teleport straight to my house,” Arthur added, focusing internally on the defences that prevented exactly that from happening. “It should be possible for the next few seconds.”
Before Arthur could even blink, someone was knocking on his house's front door. The Queen of Crows, who’d become the de facto leader of the House's guardians on Earth, since she was enhanced here, unlocked the door. Arthur borrowed her eyes and got his first good look at Roger.
It was immediately apparent that the man wasn’t human or any other race Arthur was familiar with. Arthur would best describe Roger as an automaton, a creation of steel and science, though the powerful vitality Arthur could sense from him told Arthur the robot was very much alive.
“Mr Ward, I would presume.” Roger’s metallic eyes were far from expressive, but it felt like he was staring straight through Arthur's blood guardian into his eyes. Going by the obvious power leaking from Roger, Arthur wouldn’t put anything past the man. He completely dwarfed the powerful avatars he’d met over in Haadran, save perhaps Igneus. Arthur wasn’t sure how to accurately judge the living flame.
"My guardian will show you to my office," Arthur said, the magic of his Soul Splinter carrying his voice to whoever he wished to hear it. Arthur kept his attention trained on Roger as he walked through his home. Every step the automaton took seemed to eat up the distance, quite literally, space shrinking around him. Yet despite the powerful display of magic, he never overtook the Queen of Crows.
Iris finally provided some much-needed context. "I reached out to IMA earlier this morning. Mr Roger, a senior operative, was selected to deal with my case, which means they're taking us seriously at least. He's one of three Lexicrons remaining, war bots created by an empire that's long since been lost to the ages. His propensity for battle is legendary, his greatest feat eliminating three adult apocalypse beasts in under 45 seconds. Everyone, and I mean everyone, was relieved when he suddenly took a soul vow for pacifism two centuries ago."
Arthur whistled appreciatively. The kind of firepower required to kill 3 apocalypse beasts so quickly was absurd to even think about.
"How much of his power comes from his unique species, and how much of it is magic?"
Iris seemed to be a bit of a fangirl. "All I'll say is, he didn't use any magic to kill those apocalypse beasts. Experts theorised that the fusion reactor in his chest produces similar amounts of energy to a small dwarf star. No one knows for sure how strong Roger is, and no one wants to find out."
That was all the answer Arthur needed. He had no idea how powerful Duncan and his ilk were in their true bodies, but he had a feeling Roger would comfortably fit within that tier of power. Finally, his guest arrived before his office and knocked thrice. Arthur willed the door to open and laid his eyes on the war bot for the first time. Roger was exquisite—any lesser word used to describe him would be a lie.
"A pleasure to finally meet you," the war bot said, bowing low at the waist.
"Likewise," Arthur replied. "I take it whatever you say can be taken as IMA's statement on my case."
"Yes, Mr Ward. After careful deliberation, IMA has decided to partner up with you despite the uncertainties around your position. We bet on the man who managed to overturn the death sentence issued by The Council, the man who captured the heart of Fatebreaker's daughter, and the one who bested Lady Melania in combat despite being centuries her junior."
Roger winked at him, the movement looking incredibly strange on his metallic face. "I'm not a gambling man, but something tells me those are winning odds."
Arthur looked at Iris, who subtly nodded, giving him the go-ahead. "They're better than anything me and you can do for the empire," she mouthed.
"I can only pray you're not mistaken," Arthur said. "For the citizens of Vesalius, at least. Now, is there a contract I need to sign to formalise things?"
"The contract is very simple. We just need your confirmation, either verbally or in writing. You need to pick which management plan you want before we proceed any further, though. There are dozens to choose from, but in the end, it boils down to three things."
Roger paused, his silence lending the moment the appropriate gravitas. "Do you want Vesalius to be a martial empire, one that pursues military strength above all else, or would you prefer it to be a mercurial empire that always chases profit. Or, Mr Ward, will you take the kindest path, suicidal for all but the strongest of empires? Will you put the people of Vesalius first? Your coffers may dry up, and you'll be an opportune target for many, but the quality of life for your citizens will soar."
"It is the path the strongest empires take, but only after they've established themselves first. I'd advise against it, but you don't look like a man who'll heed my council. What will you choose, Mr Ward?"
Links to the audiobooks.
Etherious: Originator
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