BECMI Chapter 238 – A Measure of Blood

Time and moves had deducted 15k from my score through the Test of Cards. However, I had accumulated the maximum possible score by clearing every room and harvesting all the valuables within… with ten thousand gold worth of extra tomes and another five in lab equipment (plus a sturdy table), plus ALL of the Suit Keys, which had also never been done. Adding on twenty thousand instead of five for the golem, and my score ended up being a whopping 97,000!An average score was 10k. An elite score was 40k, typically only achieved by well-prepared and lucky nobles with excellent coaching, fortunate encounters, and a friendly test for their spells and specialties. My Cryptomancy had certainly helped matters, of course, and walking out of there with the record-setting score that I did meant a great deal of fame was going to accrue to my fellow Rune-users, who naturally were predominantly Erendyl elves.

97K? I had just set the School’s record for a graduating score. At least in Zanzyr, I was going to be famous… infamous to all those graduates who couldn’t believe I’d achieved such a high score, and were certainly going to want to ‘compare’ themselves to me!

I could have achieved a very average score if I was so inclined, but I already had a talent for ruthless intelligence and efficiency, and wasn’t going to break that by turning in a mediocre performance. I’d hit all the proper wizard buttons and utterly mastered this test, to the point where the proctors were going to have to carefully revise such things in the future.

“Lady Edgina Bludevich-Jubanyl, Boraz’s own daughter.”

The Transyvian accent was eloquent and charming… and quite expected. The tall, pale-skinned, and finely dressed man standing at the table smiled down at me, having sidled up out of nowhere. His dark suit had creases so fine they could cut, the inside of his black cape rippled like blood against a white shirt as pure as snow, immaculate vest, blood-red cravat, dazzlingly sharp cufflinks, and even the pearl buttons on his shirt were polished. He was almost distressingly handsome in the aloof, brooding goth nobleman manner, with an austere grace about him that was drawing the eyes of the women about likes flies to honey.

Many eyes flicked from me to the Bolgarov nobleman, wondering what to do as he intruded shamelessly on our celebration. They knew the game was about to begin.

“Give us the table,” I stated flatly, gesturing imperiously about.

There were only some polite mutterings at my order, and my friends and acquaintances rather abruptly found other places to be in the cafeteria, taking their drinks with them. The closest tables also found better places to be as the man glanced tellingly about him, and suddenly we were all alone in a corner of the place, nobody close enough to overhear us.

He seated himself at an empty chair, not asking me to rise, and we faced one another across the table calmly.

“Please allow me to introduce myself. I am the Marquis Boris Bludevich-Jubanzyl, Prince Mordai’s younger brother. I am House Bulgarov’s primary representative in Council and Parliament,” he bestowed himself upon me politely.

“Edgina Bludevich-Jubanzyl, daughter of Boraz Bludevich-Jubanzyl and Keffe Nangeode, of the Shaden elvar,” I introduced myself in turn, earning an interested half-smile from the fellow. “Newly graduated Wizardess and student of Cryptomancy.” Because even being a High Cryptomancer didn’t mean I wasn’t still learning stuff.

Of the twenty-one books I’d liberated from the testing library’s main room there, nine had gone right into my Rune library, even if that entire assortment was also on Visual File as soon as I read them…

“Congratulations on your graduation,” he said with exaggerated dryness. “Such an extraordinary result is winging its way across the lips of gossips across the nation. There will be many accusations and insinuations as to why such a score happened, Lady Edgina!”

“I will find it interesting in how many people are going to question the Grandmaster’s neutrality on such matters, considering he watched my entire test like a hawk. The only proctor with an ounce of friendliness towards me was Professor Ortegaz, and on behalf of his family, there is no way he would massage my score to any extant.” I shrugged extravagantly. “The envious will be envious, great-uncle.”

“Do you have proof of your lineage?” he asked me directly, his tones dark and warning at the presumption. “Passing oneself off as the grandchild of a Prince is not a wise idea, especially with the amount of attention now focused on you.”

I picked up a spoon, poked my pinkie with my thumb, and a rich red drop of blood swelled up, then dropped down into the spoon like liquid ruby. Without a care, I sent it drifting out over in front of him.

He eyed the floating spoon, the blood within, and then me. “It seems you are not uninformed of us,” he murmured with a startlingly attractive smile.

“My father is a dhampyr. It would be a display of depressingly low Intellect to not understand the implications of my father’s bloodline,” I sniffed. “Blood knows blood, great-uncle.”

“Indeed.” He took up the spoon, and keeping my eyes, inserted it into his mouth like it was a lover’s lips, clearly enjoying the moment.

Stolen novel; please report.

Ah, the things I could have done to him with that drop of blood. Which I had not, it was not yet time.

He clearly relished the morsel, swallowing with obvious enjoyment. “It seems, my grand-niece, that you are indeed one of us.” He considered me more carefully, licking his lips once at the image I presented. “It is a matter of public knowledge that you were recruited by Princess Brittabelle herself, and sponsored to the Academy, however.”

Well, the Marquis had indeed done his research on my background. Claiming the name but not the status was still quite daring, but then nobody, save the Grandmaster and Belle, had known I claimed the name until my graduation here had required the full name for my diploma.

“That is quite correct. My sympathies lie with my elven cousins, great-uncle, not with my grandfather. I thus did not approach the House of Bulgarov, nor attempt to play upon blood connections to it. As in my graduation, I earned my scholarship via competence, not a noble inheritance. I have in no way ever played upon my family connections or asked the House of Bulgarov for aid… although I cannot say that others have not hinted that I did so in their clucking about me. It appears this accent in the human language seems to inspire a degree of envy and fear all by itself, no doubt due to repeated efforts by my forebears,” I replied calmly, a finger-flick including him in that number and earning another charming smile. “If you have come to recruit me to Bulgarov, that is not going to happen. And kindly do not try that trick with the eyes. The feedback would be painful, and I don’t think you want to be weeping tears of blood in public.”

The undead nobleman opposite me went unnaturally still for a moment, as if startled that he would be so proactively denied. I kept his gaze without any effort, just daring him to try and me with his gaze.

“Refusing the invitation of a Prince is also dangerous, young Lady,” he hinted in dark warning. As a graduate and thus a Wizard, I was now a noble and formally entitled to the appellation in greater Zanzyr, not just in Erendyl.

It also meant I was no longer a student and the Grandmaster could not protect me, unless I chose to become a member of the faculty.

“Would you like me to convey an invitation from Princess Brittabelle to meet her for tea in the shadow of the Lumina Tree of the Clan? It can be arranged, Your Grace,” I answered easily. “Your response will be the same as mine concerning being invited to Transyvia.”

I also had connections, and they were no less formidable than his own. If he had known more of what was going on in Erendyl, he might have been more concerned about such matters.

He let the moment extend a bit. He was a full Mage and a nosferatu, known to be able to withstand the sun, although such matters were never spoken of by his lessers. He was merely a handsome and long-lived wizard. I, of course, was merely a young elfin who shouldn’t have any spells left to me currently… although naturally enough I had all my Gear back, and he wouldn’t like what some of that Gear could do.

“The particulars of your test are not known, my grand-niece,” he finally allowed, seeing the pressure he was trying to create was getting nowhere. “Might I inquire into the particulars of how you managed such an incredible score?” His dry voice hid a keen interest in such an achievement.

“Preparation, Your Grace,” I answered firmly. “It was easy enough to overhear my elders talking about their graduation tests with great enthusiasm and appreciation, for all that they were coyly reticent if asked directly. However, and spells were considerably more productive, and led me to investigate certain of the School’s records after-hours via and opening some locks made to keep wayward children out.

“From the records, I learned the location and general design of all the tests, and dozens of possible formats and changes between the tests for different challengers and pursuits. Notably, many of the challenges were completely random, none were specifically meant to challenge or defeat any particular student, and that meant general flexibility was more valuable than specializing. Of course, if you knew exactly what each chamber contained, that would be best.

“Further investigation among the staff yielded who would be expected to proctor mine, and from there which one of them was in charge of allocating the chambers. Now, the chambers themselves only have a limited variety of adaptability, so, for instance, it was quite remarkable how chamber five of the Suits test always had different uses for a brass golem.”

He arched an eyebrow at the detail. “Ah, old Fireblood. Yes, that particular golem has been upsetting the dreams of students and creating quite the panic for generations,” he acknowledged.

“Indeed. An extremely powerful Construct that only dedicated offensive magic could overcome, requiring at least three and more likely four or five offensive spells, a considerable portion of a student’s spells, if they even held that many.

“Of course, the fact is a brass golem of that particular age would have to have been made by Herr Doktor Rudolph, Zanzyr’s top Construct expert, as such golems are a specialty of his, essentially being a smaller and more flexible variant of bronze golems. Smaller being key, as the Doktor makes his brass golems about nine feet tall… and thus able to crouch and fit through doors if needed.”

“An important detail,” the Marquis mused with a nod.

“Indeed it is, along with the fact the doors were overbuilt and grandiose, all about eight feet tall and sized for moving rather large beings and objects in and out to prepare for different tests… because that brass golem is also present in Chamber Four of the Crystals and Chamber Nine of the Maze.”

“Meaning the golem was being moved between various tests. It could have been merely , of course…” he countered smoothly.

“Teleportation into and out of the tests is Interdicted to prevent infiltration by helpers or assassins during an exam. The golem had to be ordered to walk into and out of the test, Your Grace,” I corrected him, and he made an exaggerated concession to my point. “As no self-described Wizard is going to walk in front of a mere golem and open every door for it, the doors themselves had to be programmed to open for the golem… and the golem had to be capable of leaving the chamber.

“Thus, the expedient thing was to take control of the golem, ride it out of the chamber, have it open all the doors for me, ignoring the mechanics and distracting permission mechanics of the Suit Keys, and simply proceed from one chamber to the next, taking the challenges as they came, in the minimum number of steps and time.

“The golem trivialized several of the tests and minimized needed expenditure of spells, plus itself was worth a great deal of money and could carry a fortune with it and out of the test,” summarized everything.

Intellect over spellcasting!