B4 Chapter 460: Ancient History, pt. 2

For the first time since it had cut off his leg and hailed him, the Castellan moved. It was a slight thing, a mere tilt of its head so that it could meet his eyes. Yet the motion sent a spike of primal panic through him.

Bronze orbs burned in its sockets, skewering him in place.

Every single one of them tensed in an instinctive response, a burning urge to move and hide like they were mice that had spotted a hawk circling overhead. The thing of bronze and bloodlust was beyond them, Kaius knew it to the very bottom of his soul.

With his brother’s health confirmed, he couldn’t keep ignoring it.

They had thrown everything they had at it, their strongest attacks backed by overwhelming ferocity — only to barely scratch the surface of its gleaming metal body.

The discrepancy in their strength only made it harder for him to grapple with its deference.

It hailed him as master. But why? And why in all the decrepit hells did it require spilling his blood first?

Kaius forced himself to take a steadying breath. They couldn’t keep ignoring the creature, not when it seemed content to let them live. This was a chance to get some answers.

He’d always known that his family history would be deep. Father had always said that Unterstern was old, among the oldest. They would have to be, for a legacy like their own to exist.

A complete legacy would be impossible to gather without power, prestige and time. It was the greatest mystery of his heritage. Why was the name of Unterstern unknown? With his legacy, they should have had a pedigree greater than the Dukes of Greenseed, and the archmages of Mystral.

Yet unknown it was. It had been why it was so easy to think they were from across the ocean. If a creation of the Empire knew him when no one else did, there was no way that simply being foreign was the full truth of the matter.

“If you knew my name, why did you attack us? How did you recognise me?” Kaius was half surprised that he managed to keep an even tone throughout his question.

The Castellan-Executor did not move, and once more it spoke with still lips.

“Your blood, Master Unterstern. All automata must answer to the legal commands of a representative of a risen house or the imperial throne.” It paused for a moment, voice taking on an air of contrition, “I apologise if you have been accosted in your tour of this facility.”

His blood? What? How? If his blood was enough for the automaton to recognise him, why had they been attacked at every turn through the ruin?

And what in all the damned hells was a risen house?!

Regardless of his endlessly growing list of questions, two things were clear. His house had authority, and at least part of Unterstern’s history lay with the Empire itself.

Ianmus, it seemed, was similarly confused by the actions of the lesser automatons they had encountered.

“If Kaius’s blood is the only thing needed to recognise his authority, why have the lesser automatons assaulted us in our passage? He is our frontline. Plenty of his blood has been spilled.”

The Castellan stood silent and still, utterly ignoring the mage’s question as it continued to stare at Kaius with a steady gaze.

Would it only answer to him? Did the authority he evidently held not extend to his team? Kaius gulped, his tongue dry.

“Answer the question,” Kaius said, shifting in his seat — only to list to the side as he tried to brace himself with an absent leg.

Right, It was missing. He could forgive himself for the lapse in judgement, considering everything.

At his demand, the Castellan inclined its head slightly. For all that its face was expressionless and its body a recreation of the ideal physical form in all its naked glory, it carried itself with the quiet dignity of a head chamberlain.

“Drones and centurions and other lesser automata are not thinking beings. With the active maintenance of this facility disabled, structures have begun to break down. The local network is particularly compromised. Some facilities and subroutines will have recognised you — it is the only way you would have made it to the mainframe without barriers, or even into this facility in the first place. However, that right of passage was unable to be communicated to the remaining personnel.”

That made a sick sort of sense from his investigations into the runic networks that were set into the walls of this place. Running into broken connections had been common, and those that were degraded and malfunctioning even more so. But blood?

“The front door, Kaius. That must have been what happened when it pricked your palm,” Porkchop said.

Kaius straightened. Of course! That at least would explain the initial connection.

The major outgoing runic web that had connected that front door to the rest of the facility had been a broken thing, but it must have reached enough systems to grant them access to most places. Not all though.

This narrative has been purloined without the author’s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The redoubts for one. Perhaps they were sealed and isolated from the rest of the structure? It would explain why it had tried to cut them off from the rest of the facility — they hadn’t been given access yet.

Still, that didn’t explain everything.

“Why my blood?” Kaius asked of the Castellan that stood over them. “And how would you recognise me from that alone?”

There were bloodline seals, of course. His blade carried one of them, and how it shielded itself from inspection apart from those related to him. But those were complicated inscriptions that had to be individually keyed and linked to every aspect of a formation to work properly . It wouldn’t have worked, not in the form he knew.

“Apologies, Master Unterstern, but the information you request requires the authorisation of the Duke of Unterstern.”

Kaius stiffened.

He was a fucking duke?!

“You’re a bloody duke of the Eternal Empire?!” Kenva spluttered, looking at him like he’d grown a second head

He had no answer for her. This was not where he had expected this conversation to go.