Lyno's brain had blue-screened.
There was a famous, powerful, and very obviously insane old man kneeling at his feet, swearing eternal fealty. An elite squad of Imperial Knights was staring at him like he had just grown a second head made of solidified moonlight. The entire town was peeking from behind shattered windows, their whispers a low, anxious buzz.
zzzzzzz... zzzzzz...
It sounded like a nest of very worried hornets.
[Say something,] a tiny, sane part of Lyno's mind screamed. [Say ANYTHING to make him get up! This is weird! Everyone is looking! This is so much worse than getting the bill for the crater!]
His mouth opened. It flapped uselessly for a moment, making a small, pathetic pop sound.
On the rooftop a few buildings over, a Royal Scryer, dispatched to monitor the golem situation, was watching through a Crystal of Far-Seeing.
"The entity... it has made a sound," the Scryer reported down his own communication crystal, his voice hushed. "A mono-syllabic assertion. The air itself has not yet recovered from the pressure. We believe it was a conceptual realignment of the immediate vicinity."
Down in the square, Lyno was just trying not to choke on his own tongue.
Valerius remained perfectly still, kneeling, his gaze unwavering. He did not rush his new Master.
He is silent, Valerius thought, his mind aflame with analytical fervor. He is weighing me. Not my power, not my knowledge—those are but dust motes to him. He is gauging my conviction. My sincerity. He is peeling back the layers of my soul with his silence, searching for any impurity. I must remain steadfast!
The silence stretched. It became thick. Heavy. Unbearable.
For Lyno, at least.
Captain Vorlag, seeing her opportunity, decided to act. She could not stand by while history was being made. She took a stiff, formal step forward, her hand clenching into a fist that she placed over her heart in a soldier's salute.
"Sir," she began, her voice the very picture of military discipline.
Lyno jumped, startled. He'd almost forgotten about the scary armored people.
Vorlag ignored his flinch, mistaking it for a twitch of cosmic awareness. "Captain Vorlag of the Empire's Crimson Vanguard. On behalf of the Empire, I offer our deepest gratitude for your intervention. The Autonomous Siege Unit was a class-seven threat. Your... method of disposal was... efficient."
Efficient was the understatement of the millennium. It was like calling a supernova 'bright'.
"Had you not acted," she continued, her gaze unwavering, "this town, and likely the entire province, would have been lost. If you require any assistance, the Empire is in your debt."
[Debt? The Empire is in MY debt? Does that mean... I don't have to pay for the crater?!]
A flicker of hope ignited in Lyno's chest. It was the best news he'd heard all day. All year, even.
Overcome with a wave of manic relief, he gave the Captain a weak, wobbly thumbs-up. It was a gesture he'd seen merchants use. It meant "Good," or "Okay," or "Deal."
Captain Vorlag froze. She stared at the thumb. It seemed so... mundane. And yet, coming from him? It was terrifying.
He... acknowledges us, she processed internally, her military mind racing to analyze the gesture. He gives us a 'thumbs-up'. Not a regal nod. Not a dismissive wave. A commoner's gesture. It is a message! He is telling us that true power lies not with emperors and crowns, but with the common man. It is a political statement of staggering depth! We must report this to the Emperor immediately!
She bowed her head low. "We understand. We will not fail to grasp your meaning."
Lyno had no idea what she was talking about. He was just thrilled about not being in crippling debt.
But his primary problem remained. The kneeling old man.
[Okay. He won't get up. He wants to serve me. This is insane, but if I refuse, what happens? He's the 'Mad Sage.' Mad people do mad things. Maybe if I just… agree… he'll get up and the attention will die down? Yes. Yes, that seems safest. Agree and run away at the first opportunity.]
Having formulated a plan, Lyno took a shaky breath.
He looked down at Valerius. "Uh…"
Valerius's ears perked up. The Master was speaking!
"Okay," Lyno squeaked out.
One word. Pathetic. Anemic. The verbal equivalent of a wet noodle.
To Valerius, it was a thunderclap.
His entire body jolted as if struck by lightning. Joy, pure and ecstatic, erupted on his face. He had been weighed. He had been measured. And he had not been found wanting.
HE ACCEPTED ME! the old sage screamed in his own mind.
Valerius rose to his feet in a single, fluid motion. He didn't look triumphant. He looked humbled. He had been given purpose.
"Thank you, Master," he said, his voice thick with emotion. He then took a step forward, producing a silk handkerchief from a pocket Lyno couldn't see.
"The dust of this world is so... boorish," Valerius murmured, and began delicately dabbing at a smudge on Lyno's cheek.
Lyno went rigid. The crazy man was touching him.
"You must not be troubled by such trivialities," Valerius explained. "Your vessel must be kept pristine. Your every contemplation is a cosmic event that shapes destinies. A moment of your annoyance could curdle the milk in a neighboring galaxy. My role is to handle the mundane, so that you may focus on the profound."
FWUMP.
A small piece of cabbage fell from Lyno's hair, where it had been hiding. Valerius caught it in his handkerchief before it hit the ground with the reflexes of a striking viper. He examined it as if it were a fallen star.
"Evidence of the primary encounter," Valerius whispered in awe. "It still resonates with the causality of the event. A priceless artifact. I must preserve it."
He carefully folded the handkerchief and placed it into an inner pocket.
Lyno's face was a mask of pure, unadulterated horror.
[This is my life now. This is it. My life is being a living mannequin for a lunatic who collects my hair-cabbage.]
Captain Vorlag watched this exchange, her respect deepening. "Even the Mad Sage Zathra is content to act as his attendant. Just who... what is this man?"
Valerius finished his unsolicited grooming and stood at a respectful half-step behind Lyno, a perfect attendant's posture. He was ready for his first order. The first sacred word. The first signpost on the path to enlightenment.
"Your will, Master Lyno?" he asked, his voice a low hum of readiness.
All eyes were on Lyno. The knights. The sage. The hidden onlookers. They were all waiting. Expecting.
Lyno was so overwhelmed he felt like he was going to pass out. There was only one thing in the entire world he wanted right now. One single, desperate desire that eclipsed all others.
He clutched the satchel containing his precious tea leaves.
"I…" he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. "I just... I want to go home."
Valerius Zathra's eyes widened. A jolt went through him. His mind, already running at impossible speeds, kicked into a higher gear, processing the true meaning of the Master's first command.
Home?
Of course. The word dripped with meaning.
A being like this didn't have a mere house. He didn't have a simple apartment. When he said "Home," he wasn't talking about a place to sleep.
Valerius's mind lit up with the brilliant, flawed logic of a true genius.
He means the Sanctum. The Nexus. The quiet, unassuming place from which he manipulates the strings of fate. He is taking me to his base of operations! He is revealing his secrets to me on the very first day! The trust! The honor!
Valerius bowed deeply, a manic grin spreading across his face.
"As you command, Master," he declared, his voice ringing with excitement. "Lead the way. We shall proceed to your Throne of Serenity at once!"