Ontos — Roleplayer Guild

A small, satisfying click ended an hour of tinkering, and Leon grinned. The pistol just needed a round of polishing, a few tests at the firing range, and perhaps he could sell it for a bit of cash. Fit for a Corsican officer of the infantry line, or a cavalry officer atop a gallant horse. Not the sort of life Leon looked for, but he understood its appeal. Beyond the Burke Barony, and the Holy Britannian Empire, a few wars for the balance of power raged. Kirmana's independence was threatened by the Sultan of Antakya, which the Emperor and his allies were forced to counter in their personal capacity. Revolutionary sympathies and unrest eventually led to the fall of the northern highlands to republican armies, and the local Kingdom of Pralodeca was contemplating its own invasion to restore some form of monarchy there. In the words of Kaz, it was the age of a brave, new world. Some old orders were overturned, others were doubled down upon, but the more things changed, the more they remained the same. A king today may have been a minister of a ruling council the next, but they all had the same power and acted like it. Leon placed his unpolished pistol on the workshop table, and exited his little workshop. The noise of shifting furniture had long ceased outside, the end result being that of a nice arrangement of cages, animal-sized beds and food bowls of varying sizes. A tall, muscular, dark-skinned woman was asleep in a corner, lying horizontal on the floor. Kaz was tall, and even when she wasn't standing up, her height was immediately obvious. No one human was this tall, other than the one man Leon saw at a circus sideshow. He grinned, and waved at the sleeping woman. Kaz worked hard to arrange this, and she deserved some sleep. The party his sisters hosted would probably have been over at this point (and chances are, they were probably shagging some middling noble from another barony). Parties were noisy, sordid affairs of inbred men and women currying for favours, flaunting their privileges or wealth, or screwing the good-looking servants. "Nobles are weird people," Leon muttered. If the gods would listen to him at this moment, perhaps they would have shouted back: "Pot kettle mate!" He wandered around the mansion without purpose. It was just a few weeks since he came back to the seat of his noble bloodline, but Leon had never really familiarised himself with the place beyond the necessities. He knew where his workshop was, where his menagerie would be and his bedroom, but Leon never truly bothered himself with anything else. He even needed to ask Kaz where his father's quarters were, not that he would visit that place willingly. He passed by a few servants, most of whom were female and avoided looking at him straight in the face. (After the incident with Arthur the dragon, most servants got the hint.) Leon did not bother looking at them, either. As long as they didn't do anything to him, he was content to ignore them. As he passed by a door, he heard a crash and a loud squeak of a creature. A dragon. Arthur. Arthur was the size of a large domestic cat and acted quite a bit like one. Without the menagerie's cages, Arthur often contented himself with wandering around the mansion.

"Arthur!" he shouted, hastily opening the door. The door led to the kitchen, and Arthur had his head in a bowl of what was presumably flour. His black scaled skin was covered with white powder. Arthur tossed the now-empty bowl of flour off his head and leapt to Leon's side, purring as he nuzzled against Leon's leg and dusted his trouser leg with dry flour. "Errr... sorry. He gets bored," Leon muttered sheepishly. His businessman sensibilities came before his supposedly noble attitude. His father once told him that the butler, or valet's job was to apologise for any faux pas towards the servants, unless that faux pas involved bastard children or murder.

The book was simple. Cassarah spoke so many times of it in the original timeline, Leneas could hardly forget it even if he tried to. "The River of Steel by Finnian the Wanderer. As a bonus, I'll even help you with the demon numerical system." Leneas did not want to mention it, but he found the human system harder to get used to that the demons'. Leneas got to explaining Astech. Leaving out personal details, he described the giant, red-skinned demon as he knew him. A lot of it was guesswork, and could hardly be applied to the broader spectrum of demons Astech was related to, but hopefully, Cassarah would be satisfied by it. 2 hours later, he finished his explanation. With an inward sigh to draw some breath into his parched mouth, he felt the dry sting of air upon his even drier mouth. "Crap, I'm thirsty as hell. Do you want to get a drink, Cassarah?"

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なんですか。

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