Chapter 548 The Gala (4)



Selene and Cynrik joined Brance in tensing up; if what Tobs had said was true, things would be much more difficult to deal with if shit hit the fan.

[[Well…shit…if it walks like a duck…]] Cynrik started to say, only to have his statement added on by Selene first, then Brance.

[[And it quacks like a duck.]]

[[Then…IT'S A FUCKING DUCK, Cynrik; this has to be a fucking trap; there is no way it's not.]]

[[No shit, captain obvious, we always knew there would be some fuckery afoot when we stepped out of Jessup's, but I didn't account for something like this.]] Leaning forward in his seat with a severe expression on his face, Cynrik's brain spun into high gear. 

[[Tobs, tell me about this formation, what does it entail.]]

-It's a rudimentary Limiting Formation that works on anyone under Tier-5. The good news is, it only has enough range to cover the mansion alone and doesn't spill over into the rest of the territory, so if things go sideways, so long as you can make it out of the house, you will be back to full power.-

-Apart from limiting your overall power level down to Tier-1, I don't see any other restriction clauses in the runic formations, so you don't have to worry about the worst-case scenario. Since it only affects living beings, your weapons won't lose any strength either.-

[[Tsk, small blessing I suppose, anyway, Sel, Brance, when did you two become as paranoid as me…heh, I don't know if I should be proud or worried at this point. Regardless, we need to be ready for anything.]]

"Kurza, Melody, hand your gear to Selene, Benny, and Gabby; give yours to Brance." Suddenly breaking away from the mind link, Cynrik spoke aloud, silencing everyone in the vehicle who had been idly chatting until then.

Without asking questions, the members of MyrkLys removed all their equipment and passed it to who Cynrik had said. Only Geralt and Garrison didn't move, which caused Cynrik to frown before extending his hand toward Garrison and speaking. 

"Garrison, you hand me your battle gear, and Geralt…uh, as a Headmaster, you probably have an access key to the formation we are about to walk into, don't you?"

"So you noticed, sigh, listen Cynrik, not everyone is out to get you…wait, Garrison, what the hell, you're actually giving him your weapons?" Staring incredulously at his employee, Geralt felt the urge to grab the weapons out of his hands and shove the man back…but he didn't. 

"Listen, if the kid's intuition is telling him something's up, I am more inclined to believe him, he hasn't been proven wrong yet, and it's better to be safe than sorry when things go sour." Shrugging his shoulders and handing over his armor, shield, and sword to Cynrik, Garrison watched curiously as the items disappeared from sight. 

"Oi, Geralt, lemmie see the doohicky that frees you from the formation restraints." Wearing a frown and shaking his open hand toward Geralt, Cynrik chided, only to receive a grumble from Headmaster Rivia.

"Fucking paranoia, Cynrik; you need to see another psychologist or something because this is getting out of hand…." Although Geralt complained, he still removed a silver clip from his Tie and dropped it into Cynrik's open palm. 

Upon receiving the clip, Cynrik began deciphering the runes he could before quickly giving up since it was too complex for him and falling back to Tobs for help. 

"Geralt, you may call me paranoid, but you don't see the Peak-Tier-4 group following us like flies on shit. I don't know their objective, but ever since we entered the grounds, they have been running alongside us, and judging by how they are decked out in combat gear, I don't expect them to have good intentions."

While Tobs analyzed the clip by standing beside it in Cynrik's hand, Cynrik addressed Geralt, causing everyone in the limo to put on distressed body language. 

"That's the governor's guard; as highly valued guests known for starting trouble, it makes sense they would be following our vehicle. Again, you are being overly cautious for no reason Cynrik." Rolling his eyes and looking out the window, Geralt noticed extremely brief distortions in the nearby space, a sign of someone or something nearby.

"You act like I am a walking dooms day bringer Geralt, have a little faith in me; it's not like I seek out trouble; it just so happens to follow me around like a stormy cloud or something." Shrugging his shoulders, Cynrik noticed Tobs waving at him to get his attention. 

[[What's up? Did you find anything out?]] He asked while handing the clip back over to Geralt. 

-Yeah, the good news is, the clip isn't soul bound. You are in the clear as long as you get your hands on one. The bad news is you aren't strong enough or experienced enough to replicate it.-

[[Great, well, if we wanna go out guns a blazing, we need to swipe some of those clips from the higher-ups.]] With his frown deepening, Cynrik ignored the constant beratement he was receiving from Geralt and worked out a couple of different scenarios till the moment the Hover-Limo stopped. 

Looking out the tinted windows, he saw numerous reporters and cameramen wearing fancy clothes and circling the red carpet like vultures, causing his frown to become a sneer of disdain. 

"Well, time to greet the peanut gallery, Geralt; you and Garrison get out first, followed by Kurza, then Benny and Melody."

"Boys, stoic and aloof, ladies, smile and look cute, you lot are the face of MyrkLys, and I am the evil dictator; you know how it goes." Cynrik snickered, causing everyone to laugh nervously. 

"Gabby, you and Brancie will be second to last, and then Selene and I will step out. If you find any famous people doing interviews that you know aren't losers or planted by the enemy, you are free to do some talking, but keep it brief." 

"Remember, public relations are important, but don't leak too much information, right? Now, chop-chop, get out of the car, Headmaster; you are up first." Flicking his wrist in a shooing motion, Cynrik indicated for Geralt to get the hell out of the car. 

"You little brat, you know damn well I have to wait for the Driver to come and open the door, yet you are still being rude. Bold of you, do you truly believe I won't teach you a lesson one of these days?" Gritting his teeth and shaking his fist at Cynrik, Geralt still scooted to the end of the row so he could get out. 

"If you meant those words, you would have stayed put instead of following my orders, oh Headmaster, you must be going soft in your old age. 

CLICK, FWOOOOOSH

Before Geralt could retort, the lock on the door undid, and the door was opened with an expulsion of pressurized air.

"We have arrived; I hope you enjoyed your ride." The Driver, an Older man with silver hair wearing a white suit, stated while bowing politely toward Geralt.

"Yes, it was quite comfortable, thank you very much," Nodding in approval at the man's manners, Geralt exited the limo, followed by Garrison and Kurza. 

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