The Bloodforged Kin

Chapter 230 - 224: Mason - Speaking Truth to Power

"So, General, do you want to tell me what happened here? How'd you fuck this up so badly?"

Tom considered his words carefully. Mason may be healed, but he was as angry as Tom had ever seen him. Even his normal over-reactions had been dulled to a simmering, casual, dangerous tone.

"The wendigos had a skill that turned people on each other. I thought Jeff would be safe back here away from the front lines, but one or more must have broken through. Or maybe the call reached further than we expected."

"He fucking attacked me in my own home! If anyone had seen it…"

Tom knew he wasn't talking about the attack - he was worried that people had seen him get his ass kicked. Mason didn't forgive much, but he most especially didn't forgive anyone who had any part in humiliating him.

"I understand, sir, but you handled it well."

The massive table was sent flying into the wall, finally giving up what little remnants held it together. "HANDLED IT WELL? I SHOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO HANDLE IT AT ALL! He fucking attacked me and, to make matters worse, he almost won! If I hadn't stripped him of his command…"

Tom let the slip go. He knew that Mason's brain was already rewriting the situation to make him the hero. "But you did, sir, and you stopped him. It was well done."

Mason fixed him with a deadly glare. "Are you making fun of me, General?"

Tom shook his head vehemently. "Not at all, sir! You are the rightful leader of this army, and anyone that threatens you should be dealt with accordingly. You did what you needed to do and, since there was no one here to witness it, it will make for a great lesson to the rest of the troops when you tell it to them."

That got his attention, but a rare thought entered his mind. "No one here to witness it but you and my Hellbound, you mean."

Tom gulped - actually gulped. The uncharacteristic display made him realize that maybe he was more scared of dying than he thought. "Sir, all I saw was you take on a man that was empowered with the strength, health, and endurance of 250 men - and you kicked him into oblivion. I am being completely straightforward when I say this, sir - while he was empowered like he was, Jeff was the strongest man to have ever existed. And you defeated him."

Mason rubbed his chin, stroking his beard while he did. "I did, didn't I? How strong would you say he was?"

Tom did some rough calculations. "Well, 250 men, each with a strength stat of over 20, that would put him at roughly…"

"Enough! I don't need the nerd shit. Tell it to the men, but make sure they know who it was that took care of the punk."

"Will do sir."

Mason searched the room for any beer bottles that hadn't been empty. After a while he realized that Tom was still standing there, legs at shoulder-width apart, hands clasped neatly behind his back. "Why are you still here?"

"You haven't dismissed me, sir."

Masons face changed and he threw his head back, booming laugh echoing through the house. "God, you are such a nerd for that military shit! Still though, good form, man, good form. Get out."

Tom turned to leave but paused in the doorway before turning back. He should just leave - he lived to see another day, and that was good enough. But was it? There was a weakness in his army and it needed to be addressed. If it wasn't, he would be leading a sub-par military, which he refused to do - even if it cost him his life.

"Sir, one more thing."

"What, Tom?"

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He turned back to look at Mason. This would either go really well or really poorly, and if it went poorly he wanted to see death coming. "Sir, I mean this with the utmost respect, but we need to develop more skills for you."

A bottle crushed in Mason's grip. "What? Tell me I didn't hear what I think I just heard."

Tom looked over his shoulder to make sure there were no listening ears. With his baffles clear, as he'd heard a Navy man say once, he continued. "Sir, you're strong - no doubt about that. But we need to face reality. Soon there will be a lot of strong people, and I have no doubt that there are others working on their strength as much as you are. The thing is, though, they're also most likely gaining new skills. There will be a day when raw strength isn't enough."

Mason's face was red and his fists clenched and unclenched in the way they did when he was too furious to speak and just wanted something to strangle. Tom knew better than to keep explaining, though. Sometimes you had to let the higher ups work out ideas on their own and pretend they came up with them.

Mason chewed on the idea - literally chewed, his jaw working reflexively - as he paced the room. Tom didn't need to read his mind to know that he was replaying the fight with Jeff. He must have reached the same conclusion as Tom because he stopped pacing and plopped down into a chair that had, until a few minutes earlier, been tucked under a table. "Okay, if you're right - and I'm not saying you are! But if you're right, how do we do that?"

"Well, sir, I've become very familiar with how skills advance as I have trained the men. Most of them describe a skill as feeling 'full' when they're ready to advance it, like a water balloon that is about to pop. Do you have any that feel that way?"

"You know I'm not telling you what my skills are, so don't fucking ask."

Tom waved it away. "I'm not asking what they are, just if any feel like they're ready to advance."

Mason contemplated, then remembered something. "Oh yeah! Something like that happened the other night. I just knew, inside here," he tapped his head, "that I could advance my control spell and, either spread it out to take control over the army, or get a stronger control over my Lieutenants."

"You could have controlled the army…?" Tom's voice was quiet with disbelief. The amount of power that would have gained them! All of this could have been avoided, and this challenge would have been a simple thing! Of all the stupid, selfish, hair-brained decisions… Something must have shown on his face because Mason interrupted his thoughts.

"You got a problem with what I chose, General?"

Tom dismissed the thoughts. What was done was done, and there was no point in crying about it. "No sir. Do you have any others that feel like that one did?"

"Nah man, that was it. I think I can feel them, but none of them feel super full or whatever."

"Okay. Sir, this is going to sound insubordinate but I assure you it's not."

"Be careful, General. I would hate to have to kick you over to where your platoon leader is."

Tom nodded. "Understood. Sir, you have some of the highest potential of anyone around. You could become the strongest, but you need to use your skills regularly to do it. You have to push them to the breaking point. You did it with your mind control spell and look at what you got from it! Even more control! And I know you know this, because you forced your Lieutenants to go out and do the same. There's nothing shameful about being out there, pushing your skills. In fact, it's a sign of strength and power to show that you're growing faster than anyone under your command. The last thing you want is for it to appear that your military leaders are getting stronger than you."

If Mason had had another table to throw he would have. "You send anyone who thinks that to me and I'll show them who the baddest motherfucker here is!"

"But sir, and I mean this with the utmost respect - what if, one day, you're not? The men leading your army are growing in strength and power every day. I'm sorry to say this, but you need me to speak the truth to you, even if they're hard truths. No one else is going to do that."

He took a breath, aware that he was potentially consigning his men to death, but needing to say it. "Sir, your platoon leaders are almost at your level, and they've been working on skills. You're strong - stronger than any of them - but what good will strength do you if they can burn you alive, predict your every move in a fight, or launch shadow attacks at you without ever even showing their face?"

"Or if they can take on the strength of all the people in their platoon…" Mason finished the thought before Tom had to. He spent long moments mulling the idea over, then said the words that Tom had dreaded. "I want you to bring your platoon leaders to me."

"Sir, you can't kill them. We need them, and killing powerful members of your army just makes your army weaker. You need a strong army if you're going to take over the world."

"I'm not going to kill them, you dumb fuck! I want to test their powers against mine! You say they're strong? Okay, then it's time to put up or shut up. Let's see if what you're saying is actually right."

Tom sighed internally but kept his face neutral. It wasn't the outcome he wanted, but it's what he should have expected. Mason was lazy and too confident in his own power. He'd never agree to advancing himself just because it was a good idea, he needed to be humbled. Hopefully it wouldn't cost him any more of his leaders.