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Jared Akka Xalud sat behind his desk, looking more bored than regal and more beautiful than conventionally handsome.

The both times that I met him, there had been an array of events that kept me from staying calm. All due to the man. Perhaps disaster followed him as due course; it couldn't be a peaceful life he had as a former War Prince and being one of the most influential Scions out of the Three Great Houses.

He wore a dress-shirt with soft buttons made of cotton, not plastic. They wouldn't have plastic yet in MSS anyways. And just like before at the Ball, one of the sleeves was tied off at the shoulder. Behind him lay a window that gave him full view of the courtyard and into the the expanse of his estate, many carriages coming and going.

"I've been wanting to talk to you. Sit. Be welcome." He said smoothly.

I took my time, approaching the chair slowly and taking in the air of the room. I was tense, but Jared wasn't. He was languid, like a snake that had just gotten its meal and paid no attention to my weaknesses. Looking around the room, I saw a pair of wooden cases that caught my eye.

Doror's wooden cases which had held the Dagger and Greaves.

…So it worked.

When Doror had made those things, I had known that he had made it thinking of a very specific customer-base, if not a specific individual. Think about it. Who here on this island uses daggers as a weapon? The Akka Xaluds, or at least Jared Akka Xalud did. It was another testament to Doror's skill, that he was confident enough in his skills to make a weapon that could outshine the competition and pull off the forging to actually garner the attention of the former War Prince.

It also told me something about Doror; that he'd never forgotten the humiliation that his people suffered at the hands of the Turina Empire –the evidence being that he was vicious enough to remember the different weaponry that each of the Houses wielded. Or that he was holding a grudge against Jared Akka Xalud, enough to surmise what weapon he used.

Who knows, maybe I'm overestimating Doror and underestimating Jared's influences. Maybe Jared wanted to gift it. Regardless, Doror's gamble had worked and we had enough funds to afford Cores for the entire party.

Just as quickly as I glanced at the wooden cases, I looked away from it; lest Jared catch me staring at the thing for too long. But his eyes were glued to the paper in his one-remaining arm, not even glancing in my direction.

It was only when I sat that he bothered to put the paper down and face me with a stare.

"Finally, we get to talk at last." He didn't quite smile, but wasn't stoic either. Jared Akka Xalud was a soft-spoken man but by no means someone used to blending in with the background. He attracted attention like flowers did with bees; the same way that disaster followed me every time I was near him.

I shifted, feeling uncomfortable in my tunic and thought of a dozen different lines of questioning that I wanted to pursue. Curiosity pricked at me; his heritage, his goals in the Free Trader's League, Kariyo's death, and lastly, the Orcs calling him Chief.

But did any of those things matter?

I didn't want to get involved with Jared any more than I already was. The only reason I was here to get what I could out of that Duel which I won, and have nothing to do with Jared Akka Xalud ever again.

So I shut off the parts of my brain that wanted to delve into every inch of Jared Akka Xalud's backstory and went straight to the point.

"On the boat, during my duel with Kariyo, I asked you what you'd give me if I won. You answered me with the word, 'everything'. I'm here to collect." I said.

"Yes. I did promise you, didn't I?" Jared said, "And I will keep it. What do you need?"

Simple and straight forward. No side stories. No conversations.

So I responded in kind.

"I need a healer. Someone who's not beholden to Zenom Saintred. I don't care if they're from the Church of Light, Flame and Shield or an Elf or a Beastman or a Dwarf. I just need a healer who'll do his job, which is to act as a healer for my party."

I've been thinking a lot time about this. What we needed for the last stretch of this journey.

I got the non-negotiables out of the way. Cores. Equipment. Auxiliary Support. Allies we can trust.

And now… the last piece.

A Healer.

Truth be told, I would have wanted a permanent member. Someone we can trust. But the second-best option was a neutral third party. A mercenary-type of Healer, if you will. Most Healers of Temples and Churches worked like Mercenaries for hire anyways, with the money going straight into their Temple's coffers. Donations and tithes can only do so much to pay for new buildings and the vices of religious leadership.

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I had wracked my brains for where to get a healer. I know. Darwin was an option. But going to Claw's Nest with Darwin? Pitting him in a battlefield where spells like [Meteor] and [Fire Wall] and statuses like [Instant Death] could be rained down on us? It didn't end there. We needed a capable healer and Darwin wasn't it. Someone who could heal us from status afflictions like [Poison] and [Advanced Poison], [Burn] and [Freeze-Burn]. Ok, maybe not [Free-burn], I wasn't expecting that kind of Monster or Mage to pop up this early on in our adventure.

But I needed someone more talented and dependable for Darwin. I trust Darwin to be loyal. But I don't trust him as a Priest.

Besides, the one with the relationship with him was Stole. And she wasn't ready to make those types of high-level decisions, on who becomes a party member or not. The beastman girl wasn't ready yet.

I didn't want to recruit one of Zenom's men either. Simple: I needed someone who would put my orders at priority, not his. Even if we were allies, there would still be times when our opinions differ on what takes priority during this mission.

My party needed a Healer that we could trust (as far as our coin stretched anyways, which was running short due to our recent shopping spree) as well as someone who were attached to us and only us. Without any of the strings that connected them to the other parties of this expedition. The gods of MSS take it, we were already knee-deep in enough interwebbed intrigue SNAFU already.

So the answer was simple.

Jared Akka Xalud.

Someone who wasn't on anyone's side but his own. Someone who had connections to provide a direction on where to get a Healer. And someone, whom by my own personal judgement, could be trusted to follow through on his word.

So here I was.

To my request, Jared simply nodded. "I have someone in mind." Then his eyes stared past me, to the door where I had just entered from, "Grum."

The Slave Orc from the Uleum Horde opened the door, his footsteps making no sound whatsoever. He entered, the sunken eyes wrinkling with… with what emotion, I couldn't tell. He inclined his head an inch, in deference to the War Prince.

"Grum, how many orc healers do we have in captivity?"

"Over a dozen, War Chief."

Jared waved his one hand. "Bring one of them, young. A skilled one."

"...At?"

"The Healing Arts, of course." Jared smiled knowingly at me.

"As you wish."

Grum left.

The whole exchange took less than thirty seconds and left me sitting there dumbfounded.

"What is this?" I asked and managed to keep most of the anger out of my voice. It came out desperate instead, the words drained of anger and filled with an emptiness that rang hollow.

"You asked for a Healer who's not beholden to the Church. I am providing you with one, Slaveborn." He rested his chin on the back of his hand, leaning forward. "Surely, you knew what would happen."

Did I?

"I thought you'd point me towards a mercenary corp. Or a Guild or a Clan who specializes in such things."

"Oh, please." He smiled, the corners of his lips almost touching his ears.

He definitely had more than seven Cores; one's facial structure doesn't change that easily. The more Monster Cores you take, the less of a person you become. Slight body changes. Nails that are more like claws than human nails, Orc canines a bit too sharp, like a well-whetstoned knife. Elf ears that grow fur.

You don't completely change in appearance, but the evidence is there. As long as you knew how to look for them. It also gives a hint to what kind of Core they might have.

A Core that might stretch one's mouth like that… There were a couple. It was almost impossible to pinpoint until I saw him fight. Or at least see more of his specialized gear and trinkets.

"A Guild or a Clan can be bought. Their loyalties can change."

"They strictly operate under the principal to not taking a second client. Mercenaries' Code."

"How many Guild or Clans do you think have their own Healer anyways?" Jared countered gently, like talking to an old friend over a cup of coffee. "You came to me for a reason; because you know the scarcity of Healers, especially with the… particular conditions that you have. Let me guess? Afraid that you might find a dagger pointed at your back at a crucial moment at Claw's Nest?"

I bit my tongue, lest I say something I regret. "Why are these Orcs following you anyways? Last I heard, you're the bane of their existence. They should hate you."

"Hate and Love are not so different. Both are passionate. Both can border on obsession." Jared Akka Xalud leaned back in his chair, eyes half-lidded as if he were taking a jog down memory lane. "I won them in a Duel."

"A Duel?"

"I beat their former War Chief. In Single Combat. I asked for the children of his honor guard, their first sons. Grum and his five sword-brothers were what I got." His smile turned wicked, eyes growing large. "Surely, you didn't think I accepted your challenge on account of Turinan Customs alone? You cited Mak'Gorah. I was simply paying respect to something we both have in common."

"And you trust them?"

"Oh, I trust them with my life, Slaveborn." Jared gave a delicate laugh, "You don't know what it's like in the Northern Mountains of Turina. There, in the cold lonely mountains where Monsters reign and people are still but food and your life could be upended before tomorrow's Sun; your word and honor is everything. They will keep their word."

"Those backwards beasts have no concept of betrayal, no concept of deceit. They're just livestock. A strong hand is enough to rule them. A soft hand… No." Jared traced a finger on the table, somewhat tenderly. "I am many things. But a soft hand is not one of them."

I sat there, stunned. If anyone else had given me that speech, I'd think they were acting. A little overly done; like I was watching a performance. There would be emotion, but not the essence of what they were saying. Maybe there would be a shudder, or a tingling of the eyes. A little tip-off that they were putting on a show… either for you or for themselves.

But Jared…

He…

He just said it.

And I had no doubt that he meant it.

I had to stop trying to define Jared into what I knew of as a human being. I had a regular 9-5 job back on Earth and here in MSS, I've had moderate success. But I haven't even begun to cover even half of what this world had to offer.

And in front of me sat a venerable War Hero of a country whose sole purpose of existence was War.

Yeah.

"Then the healer is mine?" I moved on from the topic. "To do with as I will?"

"I will clasp a Slave Collar on him. You are free to do with him as you wish. A present to you, from me. For killing Kariyo on my behalf."

"...Your orc guard said that to me too. What was he to you?"

"A brainless sycophant whom any of the demi-humans under my command could slay. He was getting a bit too… involved with the brainwashing of the Church." Jared tapped his finger, "I guess you could say he is what Zenom would become, if you two should succeed."

What?

"Oh, he's changed. The Holy Knight has changed too much." The former War Prince smiled as someone knocked on the door and finished the rest of his sentence in a passing manner. "After this, I assume he'll be re-educated. Come in, Grum. Let's show Slaveborn here what a magnificent animal we have for him."

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